grunting and swearing. “Get off me! You’re crazy! My dad is going to sue you! You’re dead! I’ll press charges! You’re going to prison!”
I apply a fraction more pressure to his wrist, just enough to make the joint creak. “Your dad isn’t here,” I say, leaning down so my mouth is right next to his ear, my voice low enough that only he can hear. “And neither continue reading …
