He feels the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck start to prickle, dread working its way up his spine. Whatever this is, he has the sudden very distinct sense that it is not good.

He's been questioned about the 'history' before.

The squeeze jars him a little and he makes a cursory attempt to pull his hand free.

"None of your business," he says. Coy didn't work, rudeness is apparently the next logical step.