“You’re coming with us, little brother,” I remind him. Horror freezes him, eyes like saucers. “No.” He notices Thatcher, Farrow, Moffy, and Charlie filling the bedroom, then his head whips back to me. “No. Jane, I told you I can’t go—” “And I told you that if you used, we’d force you.” “You can’t.” He uses his elbow to prop himself up. “Are you naked?” I ask. His face scrunches like what the fuck. “No—” I fling the comforter off his body. “Jane.”
