“I don’t want to die in the prison showers,” I say fretfully.

“Uh. What?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Pauley Galucci would get me.”

“I don’t think that’s a real person.”

I bury my face in my hands. “I’d be a snitch.”

“Snitches do get shivved,” he agrees, taking another bite of his sandwich. How he can stand to eat something he hates, I’ll never know. He’s got this annoying fucking smirk on his face, like he knows something I don’t. I want to punch him in the mouth.

“Garroted,” I correct him.

“That too. I’m not interrogating you, Tyson.”

Oh shit. I should have remembered he was one of the only people who could reverse-follow my line of thinking. Of course he knew exactly what I was talking about without having to have an explanation. No wonder he’s a cop. He’s, like, psychic or something.

“I didn’t think you were,” I say. I am a big fat liar.

He knows this, but he lets it go. Okay, we’re back to Good Cop. Fun. “Good to know.”

“Uh. Sure.”

And he immediately switches into Bad Cop. “So, how have the past four years of your life been?” Or maybe it’s Make You Feel Guilty Cop. It’s said with such an affable tone that I almost miss the words. “Seems I haven’t heard from you in some time.”

Asshole. “Oh, just fine,” I say. Two can play Bad Cop. “Thanks for the invite to your wedding. Sorry I couldn’t attend. It seemed rather sudden, and I already had plans.” Okay, maybe I’m Jerk Cop.

He grins, and it’s a feral thing. “That’s okay. You probably wouldn’t have had much fun. Lots of grownup stuff happening.”

“Sounds boring, though I heard the service itself was quite lovely. You know, for a wedding that came on such short notice.”

“It was nice,” he says. “Lots of flowers. You would have liked them.”

“I’m allergic,” I say sweetly, stepping onto thin ice as if it’s solid ground. “Probably good I didn’t make it. I would have sneezed through the whole thing.”

“Probably good,” he echoes. “Wouldn’t have done to have distractions. Vows and all that. You know about vows, Tyson? They’re usually inevitable, after all. Still, it was a lovely day, even in your absence.”

The ice doesn’t break, so I decide to take a jackhammer to it. I figure, why not? You only live once. “Shotgun weddings usually are. Hopefully Stacey found a suitable dress. I assume she was what… three, four months along at the time?” I smile at him. It’s a nasty thing.

His eyes flicker dangerously. Bad Cop is Pissed Cop. “Something like that.”

“And you, the sanctimonious man that you are, decided to do the right thing.” Of course he did. He’s Dominic, after all.

“Careful, Tyson,” he warns. “You’re speaking about my son.”

Ben pays little interest to the goings-on around him. “You’re right,” I say softly. “I am speaking about your son. Who you had with Stacey. It was, after all, inevitable.”