Compton and Sanny walk in right behind him, big smiles on their faces. Compton catches my eye, grinning like a lovestruck idiot. “Yeah, Sanny,” Novy shouts. “Lock him down quick, or I will!” The guys all laugh as Sanford gives Novy a death glare. He may not have the scar to match Novikov, but it’s still intimidating as hell. The guys shuffle around at the front of the room, Kinnunen stepping back to let Compton and Sanford claim the middle spots. “Aren’t we supposed to hold hands?” asks Compton. “Shut up,” Sanford says and we all laugh. “Come on, asshole. Hold my hand or something,”
