Chapter 12
“Tell me, Jay.” Dean tightened his grip. If the little sod thought to flee, he could think again. His friend’s face furrowed with what Dean took for confusion, sent a pang of regret through him, but still, Dean didn’t let up. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what? Something you already know?”
Dean recognised the tone. Jay, a second away from growing angry. Jay’s jaw stiffened, his lips compressed as if to back up what he said. He gave a feeble shake of his head—the best attempt possible with the back of his neck in Dean’s tight grip. Dean needed to ease up or risk bruising him.
“Why?” Jay sounded more tired than pleading.
Good question. “I want…need to hear it.” As stupid as declarations went, Dean nevertheless continued. “Second-hand…isn’t good enough. I don’t know how to explain.”
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