“He’s still fuming about his nose,” Ian said. “Oh, well — it’s not the first time it’s been broken. I’ll tell him you said you were sorry.” “I’m not.” “I know. No one is ever sorry for hitting Kyle.” They laughed quietly together; there was a sense of camaraderie in their amusement that seemed wildly out of place while Jared held a gun loosely pointed in Ian’s direction.
