"I don't know. What can you give me, Rathaway?"

"A concussion," Hartley growled, even though he was just now slowly sitting up, glaring at the boy's phone.

"Don't pin your hopes on it, I already sent them to a friend and my email address." He pretty much saw the heart sink in Hartley's chest. At least he was quick on the uptake. The other one seemed to be a bit slower.

"Leave him out of it." Hartley grabbed Barry by the shoulder and pulled him back. "He has no money anyway."