Zane tensed. “I think it does.”
“Damon scared him.”
Zane surged forward. He was up against the glass, wide-eyed, searching Quinn’s face. “What the hell was Damon doing at your place?”
“He came over unannounced, wanted his stuff back.” Quinn waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing—”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“Well, he tried to take Mars, scared him.” He gestured to his neck. “This was the result.”
“What a bastard.”
“I told you; it wasn’t Mars’s fault.”
“I wasn’t talking about Mars.” Zane took what looked like a calming breath. “Has he got a key to your place?”
Quinn hesitated.
“Tell me he hasn’t still got a key,” Zane demanded.
“I kind of never asked for it back.”
Zane looked away. “Even if you did ask, I wouldn’t trust him. He might have got another cut.”
“I don’t think—”
“You need to change your locks.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Quinn shook his head. “That’s hardly necessary.”
“We’ve established you have a knack for drawing in the crazies. Why would Damon be any different?”
“Are you one of the so-called crazies?”
“Yes.” Zane looked him in the eyes. “Possibly the craziest.”
“Zane, I’m not changing the locks.”
“You need to.”
“I don’t need to do anything.”
Zane held up his hands in surrender. “Just hear me out. Damon comes to your house on your birthday completely unannounced—”
“He wanted his stuff back.”
“He wanted to know whether you were alone on your birthday.”
Quinn shook his head and spluttered on a bitter laugh. “Zane, he didn’t know—”
“Of course he did. No doubt it’s on your social media pages. He wanted to interrupt, cause a scene, put a downer on your birthday.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s dangerous.”