Dane
His father stared at him with that hawkish gaze—a predator on prey, waiting for Dane's answer.
"Fine," Dane said, the word cut off because his breath was coming so fast.
"Your mother tells me your report card came in today?"
Shit.
He looked at his mother who'd appeared at his father's elbow, peering past him, her brows pinched hard together. She scanned the room, obviously looking for Chris too.
Dane looked back and forth between his parents, unable to think of a single word to say that wouldn't set his father off.
"Do you know what your report card says, Dane?"
He shook his head. His mother's eyes squeezed tight. "Doug, please, we can talk about it downst—"
