Chapter 4

But no. Wesley pulls his legs

beneath his chair, out of harm’s way. Then he covers Mr. Fordham’s

hand with one of his own. Long, thin fingers slip between the hand

and his knee. The older man sits up, leaning over the clipboard now

balanced precariously in his lap. Once again, he doesn’t let go of

Wesley as he writes. “Be good,” he whispers.

Jason barely

hears the words, but he sees the smirk they bring to Wesley’s

face.Is it my turn yet?he wonders, glancing at the nurse. This time she

looks up from the computer and sees him. She looks over at the two

men across from him and reaches for another clipboard, then turns

her attention to Jason again. “Mr. Harraway?” she asks, holding up

the clipboard and a pen.

God. He feels Wesley’s hot stare as

he folds the magazine and sets it on the table. He knows the kid is

watching him—would it look really bad if he took another seat on

the other side of the room? Away from these two, and whatever