“Jacob’s titan,” Rico remembered. “You never came into the labs.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, the titan nodded. “Labs are cramped,” he said. Pausing, the big man muttered. “Also: not the most pleasant of memories. What little we have anyway.”
The young man rotated his right elbow, wincing at the pain. Then — wait. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting you out,” his apparent saviour replied easily. He placed a hand in the middle of Rico’s back, propelling him towards the exit.
“Simon sent you?” It seemed the only explanation.
Mr. Big had a coughing fit. Finally: “Definitely his idea.”