Chapter 87

But suddenly Ramsey’s there, pushing Conlan

aside, and as nonchalantly as I can, I lift the napkin from the

tray. “Go wait down there,” Ramsey says, angry. Conlan hesitates,

but Ramsey gives him a hard shove down the corridor, away from me.

“Go on.”

Conlan doesn’t argue, but he’s still looking

at my hand, the napkin I’m holding, and he doesn’t move until I

clench it tight in a fist. While Ramsey glares at him, I slip my

hand behind my back, tuck the napkin into the waistband of my

pants. “Jeremy,” Ramsey warns again. “I said—”

“I heard you.” There’s no malice in

Conlan’s voice as he drifts further down the corridor, hovers where

I can just see him if I turn. How can he talk like that to Ramsey,

who terrifiesme, and not have the balls to stand up to

Ellington? Who’s like a big brother,I think,

overprotective, he won’t even let you make your own

mistakes.

Ramsey scowls at me. Crossing his arms in

front of his chest, he stares until I can’t even swallow, I can