He'd only managed a step when this came barreling, and it would have stopped him dead on its own merit, even without whatever was making his feet seem heavier than lead.
He knew that feeling. Oh, man, did Jules ever know that feeling. He'd been in love more times than anyone had a right to be. Never lasted, but he'd been there, and he knew that damn face, the one with the dark eyes. All the ink was just confirmation. It wasn't him though, this thing he'd just felt, it wasn't him. He'd never had a step-daddy, and his momma had been a catty southern woman, but she'd never took a fist to him.
But damn. He'd just felt that. Not like seeing, nothing like seeing, and he thought of dialing Zee up on the phone he'd tucked away minutes earlier.
He didn't, though, because the hall was spinning again, and he reckoned answers might be coming.