Ranger laughed, brittle and without humour. “I could tell you a thousand things about Priest, but trust me, it’s not going to make that jagged broken thing in your chest hurt any less.” I almost lunged. But the reality of his growled words was a brutal thing. His unspoken words. Ranger wasn’t telling me shit because he thought—because he knew I couldn’t handle it. He knows you love him. Fuck. Did Locke? Tell him.
