I laugh quietly, even as he jerks both my arms behind my back and slaps handcuffs on them. Roughly, he leads me up back towards the front of the mansion, where Dan is still loud-mouthing the agents and demanding his lawyer. “Got a runner,” the agent attached to me calls out. Dan pauses mid-tirade to look over at us. I can’t be sure from this distance, but it almost appears as if Dan's face goes lax with relief for just a moment. “He has nothing to do with anything,” Dan says, his face tightening once more with anger. “Yeah, okay, buddy,” the agent snorts from behind me. I’m actually surprised by the fact that Dan is trying to defend me. “Why am I even being arrested?” I snarl, feigning anger. “You tried sneaking off during an FBI raid. That’s grounds for suspicion.” “Tm terribly sorry about this, Zack,” Dan cuts in. “This doesn’t involve you.” I shrug a shoulder, the movement awkward against the cuffs. “S'kay. These assholes will be fired by morning,” I say with a shit-eating grin. Dan scoffs and corrects me, “By the end of the night.” “Yeah whatever, fuckers. Get in the car before I accidentally smash your head off the car on the way in.” I twist in my binds. “What’s your name?” The agent grins. “Michael.” “Well, Michael, I hope you don’t mind shitting out teeth because you’re about to eat them.” Michael laughs, a glimmer in his eyes. Dan starts up again when another agent leads him into the back of a cop car. His rant is cut off by the slam of the door. “Get in the goddamn car, Z. I am hungry, but it’s not for my teeth.” Chuckling, I comply.