But not Roy O'Connor. Roy O'Connor was using muscle. Myron was surprised.

'I want you out of town for a little while,' Myron continued. 'You got someplace to lay low?'

'Yeah, I'll crash with a friend in Washington. But what we going to do?'

I'll take care of it. Just stay out of sight.'

'Okay, yeah, I hear ya.' Then: 'Oh, Myron, one other thing.'

'What?'

'One of the dudes who held me down said he knew you. A monster, man.

I mean, huge. Slick-looking motherfucker.'

'Did he say his name?'

'Aaron. He said to tell you Aaron said hi.'

Myron's shoulders slumped. Aaron. A name from his past. Not a good name either. Roy O'Connor not only had muscle behind him - he had serious muscle.

Three hours after leaving his office, Myron shook off all thoughts about the garage incident and knocked on Christian's door. Despite the fact that he'd graduated two months earlier, Christian still lived in the same campus dorm he had occupied throughout his senior year, working as a counselor at Reston U's football summer camp. The Titans' minicamp, however, started in two days, and Christian would be there. Myron had no intention of having Christian hold out.

Christian opened the door immediately. Before Myron had a chance to explain his tardiness, Christian said, 'Thanks for getting here so fast.'

'Uh, sure. No problem.'

Christian's face was completely devoid of its usual healthy color. Gone were the rosy cheeks that dimpled when Christian smiled. Gone was the wide-open, aw-shucks smile that made the co-eds swoon. Even the famed steady hands were noticeably quaking.

Come on in,' he said.

'Thanks.'

Christian's room looked more like a 1950s sitcom set than a modern-day