Against his better judgement, Sam found himself en route to some wretched house party, crammed in a swaying carriage with Alfie, Tristan, and Gareth. All three were dozing, but his head hurt abominably, and the swaying was causing all kinds of nausea, so he simply stared miserably out of the window. How in the world he was going to get away from Mosely, God only knew. Was he to spend the rest of his life running from the man? He had now involved Gareth and felt partially responsible for him, too. Both had a living to earn, not like Tristan and Alfie. He looked at Tristan. He was frowning in his sleep. Those fair brows were drawn together and his lips were turned down at the corners. Gareth was leaning against the side of the carriage, arms folded and mouth open and Alfie was slumped so far
