"So long as they don't nick anything, it's all good." His hand reached out. Almost lowered onto my shoulder before he seemed to think better of it and snatched it back. "What's on your mind, Isaac? For real. You can talk to me. About anything. No judgement."

I was tempted to test that theory and throw in some bogus tall-tale about sacrificing kitten's hearts to Satan. But then again, given his profession, he'd probably have a been-there-and-done-it guide for it.

He had no idea how hard those words were for me to say. He had no idea how much pride I had to sacrifice to utter them. But eventually, I...