“Again. The guy haspsychopathichatred toward me, Blaire, so why does that person need to be me?”
“If you don’t, then who will?”
What?“What the hell does that mean?”
“He will be a better friend than enemy, Sean. Trust me.”
Deep in Sean’s chest where the anger had sprouted, something stabbed it with poisoned fertilizer. “Trust you?” he demanded. “Trust you?Why would I trust you when you won’t tell me the truth about anything? This is the same argument from this morning.”
“Sean—”
He spun on his heel and pounded up the stairs, two at a time. In his bedroom, he grabbed a backpack and shoved some clothes into it. Cash. Ibuprofen.
Cole appeared in the doorway, brows drawn low as he watched Sean’s harried division of his scarce belongings. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, tone carefully flat.
Sean barely spared his cousin a glance. “I have to get out of here.”
Cole blinked. “Alright, then.” He disappeared, and Sean slipped the note from his mother into his wallet.
Sean flew back down the stairs and headed for the front door without looking at Blaire again, though she tried to stop him. “Sean, please wait. Sean! Let’s just talk about this.”
“I’m done trying to talk to you. All I get is more questions.” He swiped up the credit card from the bureau, the one they never used but owned in case of emergency. Blaire did nothing to stop him. He burst through the door, the cool evening air a boon to his overheated skin.
Behind him, Blaire screeched up the stairs, “Cole! Go with him!”
“I’m on it,” Cole replied.
Sean rolled his eyes. He tossed his backpack into his car and slipped into the driver’s seat.
Then he waited.
Because if Cole planned to come with him, Sean wasn’t angry enough to leave him behind. He pressed his palms to his face and breathed, trying to talk sense into himself.
It was irrational to leave.
Dangerous, probably.
What point was he trying to prove?
Where would he even go?
He knew no one. Had no contacts.
No amount of logic would alleviate the anger brewing inside. He couldn’t stay there, shrouded in mystery. He could always come back. It was just a drive. He needed this to clear his head. The packed bag was just in case.
And if it lasted until tomorrow, he’d text his boss. Personal emergency. Whatever it took.
Cole slipped into the car without fanfare, staring straight aheadlike this was a planned road trip and not the culmination of a long-awaited temper tantrum.
Sean started the car. Blaire stood in the doorway, palm over her mouth. He spared her one last glance before spinning the car toward the long gravel drive leading to the highway.
“Do you have a plan?” Cole asked about ten minutes later.
“I can’t be there anymore.”
Right on cue, his phone rang. Blaire’s contact photo lit his screen from the cupholder.
“She’s probably freaking out,” Cole said.
