That’s when I notice it, his split lower lip. My gaze widens, but I’m clearly not the only one who sees it. Eric is wearing the same injury that I gave the man in the limo. Ranger’s shoulders tighten, and his mouth flattens out. “How are you?” Eric asks, but not like he particularly cares. More like he has no soul. “Just fine, Dad,” Ranger replies, tossing his apron aside and stepping out the door. Let’s just say, I don’t sleep very well those next few nights.
