What if you just stop worrying about it?
Wes led Nathan to where he’d parked the day before, sure Roger would be there, sitting on the hood and grinning his devilish grin, the one that never quite made it to his eyes. Or maybe he broke into the car and was stretched out on the back seat. Or maybe he slashed the tires, or keyed the doors, or smashed the windshield, or—
Maybe he’s still passed out.
There was no one at his car. The tires were fine, the doors fine, the windshield fine.
I’m just over-reacting, that’s all. He’s not the greatest guy when he’s been drinking but he’d never really hurt me. Yeah, he’s rough some times, but he’s not evil.
Still, he felt a little better, a little safer, when he slid behind the driver’s seat, Nathan beside him, his hand giving Wes’s knee a rea
