“What is it?” His hand brushes my cheek. “I know your brother’s name but not yours.” “And I know your sister’s name,” I reply. “You gotta tell me something.” I fight the urge to go stiff. “Like what?” “Anything,” he replies, both his hands now in my hair. For such a big guy, he’s so gentle. “I know what this is.” He kisses my brow. “I know you want us both to walk away clean. I get it, and I’ll play along. But I can’t just…” He sighs, his fingers brushing featherlight at my collarbone. “I need you tell me something.”
