Releasing a sharp exhale, Terry and Jerry straightened, forcing composure they no longer possessed as they knew lingering would only cause more trouble.
Terry being more composed, reached for the doorknob and eased it open with a careful creak.
Dragging themselves inside, hands clasped stiffly to their thighs, they stumbled to a halt before Zane's desk, keeping a respectful distance. Their gazes dipped instinctively.
Jerry's legs trembled like jelly, barely steady beneath him.
Cold sweat drenched Terry's face and soaked into his collar, as though he'd been caught in a sudden downpour. He swiped his thumb across his brow, as if trying to wipe away the fear clinging to his skin.
Zane's expression shifted—subtle, but sharp. Curiosity flickered as his features tightened while he took in their visible unease.
He glanced at his wristwatch.
