40
Jonathon took a step back and sat on the bed, tugging me down beside him, but my attention remained on Matthew—he hadn’t moved from his casual stance.
“How’s your face?” Jonathon tilted me toward him. “I’m sorry he hit you, but you should try not to antagonise him. Dad can be ... strict.”
My lips stayed shut. I had nothing to say to any of them. Just as I had no interest in anything they had to say. Unless, of course, it pertained to escape routes.
“I understand you’re upset,” he continued, “maybe even a little frightened.”
When I still didn’t answer, he sighed and went to join Matthew across the room. Side by side, they both stared my way.
I glared back—from one to the other, then back again. When their stares didn’t waver, and I grew too exhausted to continue, I turned my back o
