Some asshole had to hit his brakes as Aaron came off the sidewalk between Shiloh and the road. Ignoring the New York swearing and the smell of burnt tire, he had the jacket in one hand and his expression could have been carved from ice. With one fist he thumped the jacket into Shiloh's chest, shoving him back on the sidewalk. "Put it on," he said, in a voice Shiloh had never heard him use before. This close, he could feel Shiloh's odd sense of rejection, his detached regret, his growing puzzlement. It just pissed him off more.