A gaping silence stretched the length of the cellar, the door banging shut in Lasseter's wake. My arms shook with the sudden breeze rippling through the space, and with the thought of how Poor Aileen would feel. If she knew Eric was here. I hugged myself, cursing my very bare legs.
'Here, kid.' Callaghan laid his jacket across my shoulders. I looked up at him, towering over me, expecting him to knit some innuendo in somewhere. Or to chastise me for involving myself in his tete-a-tete with Lasseter. But he was lost in thought.
'Thank you.' I moved down the aisle, back the way we came. 'Are you okay Trent?'
I berated myself internally, I had no reason to have felt so protective of Callaghan. He wasn't deserving of my concern.
He shook his head, a delayed reaction, like he was in a daze,
