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Summary
And Scott felt it — a cold hard tug under his left ribs, a powerful ache of familiarity. It had been a long time since he’d seen so much of himself in the new crop of players, who seemed to get younger and younger every year. But Hollander wasn’t much like his peers. Scott couldn’t decide if he was more or less mature than the rest of them, but whatever he was, he was different. Marked. It gave him the look of a decidedly soft target.
“How about we get you to your room.”
Or: Scott steps up. Maybe he regrets it.
Series
- Part 1 of Rook