Tyler held Lamar’s hand on his thigh, their fingers laced together like the keys of a piano. Each time Lamar extracted his hand to shift gears, Tyler caught it again before it got too close to the bulge at his crotch. With a growl of frustration, Lamar gunned the car ahead, faster, tearing through the night as Tyler thwarted him again and again. Finally he pulled off the interstate, a few exits shy of Richmond’s skyline, and rolled to a stop at a well-lit 7-11. He cut off the engine and the music died, the silence deafening in its wake. “Beer stop, bitches.”
Ange knew what that meant—Lamar wasn’t getting the response he wanted from Tyler, so he thought it time to get the boy drunk, see how he opened up then. The three of them climbed out of the car but when Colin held the door for Ange, h
