RONALD
I opened the passenger door and leaned down, my shadow cutting across his face. He hadn’t moved since we parked. Just sat there, arms crossed like he was plotting an escape that wasn’t going to happen.
“You getting out on your own,” I said, voice low, “or am I going to have to carry you again?”
Jeffrey didn’t even flinch. He just lifted both hands in mock surrender. “I’ll walk,” he said dryly. “No need to make another scene.”
“Smart choice.”
He stepped out, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. I didn’t say anything. I just fell into step beside him like a cop walking a criminal down a hallway.
Our footsteps echoed on the stone tiles, loud in the silence of the night.
He didn’t speak. Neither did I.
The front door shut behind us, sealing his fate, and mine.
When we reached the room, I walked straight to the bar shelf built into the wall and poured myself a double. Then another. I turned with a glass in hand, and looked at him.
He was standing near the middle of the
