“Right, Colin…”
“Really, baby, I can explain.”
“Get out of my way, Colin.”
“It’s my ma, Dexter…” Colin gasped. “She’s sick!”
The cold, hard expression still darkened Dexter’s face and Colin still shook. Neither of them moved so when someone told them to get the f**k out of the way, they both turned to the person at the same time and shouted, “f**k you!”
They looked back at each other at the same time, eyes locked. Colin was ready to pass out. His chest tightened. It hurt. Painful fire spread through his lungs—white hot and making it hard to breathe. Too hard. Asthma. He tried to reach into his pocket for his inhaler. A hand touched his arm, guiding him to the side and away from all the people.
“Okay, okay,” Dexter’s soft voice soothed. He took hold of Colin’s wrist and moved his hand
