Nathan pressed his lips together, angry. “Fine.” I hate you, Roger. You’re getting between us here and making him scared, making him snap at me, making things strained because he doesn’t want to talk about you. I just want him to get you out of his mind. You are so f*****g dead when I get to you. I hate you for making him like this.
With his fork, Wes pushed the food around on his plate, clearly not interested in eating any more. Nathan stood up from the table. “Come on,” he said, tugging on Wes’s arm to get him to his feet. “You done?”
Nodding, Wes followed Nathan into the living room. The room was dark; the only light slanted through the gap where the closed curtains didn’t quite meet. It cast the room in a dusky blue from the night falling outside. “Nathan, where…”
“Trust me,” Nat
