The car was quiet on the way home from the Harrison dinner.
Troy drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. Streetlights slid across the windshield in steady intervals. Alex sat with his shoulder against the door, staring at the dark road, replaying one sentence over and over.
_I know what it looks like when someone is owned._
Troy didn’t look at him. “What did he say to you?”
Alex kept his eyes forward. “Not much. He talked about the garden. Said I looked like I needed air.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
A few seconds passed. “You’re a bad liar when you’re tired,” Troy said.
Alex’s fingers curled against his knee. “I’m not lying. He pulled me aside for a minute. Then you came in.”
Troy glanced at him, then back at the road. His jaw ticked. “He watches you
