Page 148 of The Exit Strategy

The weight of Junie’s hand in the crook of my elbow is a fact I can focus on.

Nana Mae peels off toward a table of women her age, two of whom are probably watching the door for Paula, but thankfully, she drags Hudson with her, and the first fissure of doubt sweeps across my palms.

“Twenty minutes,” I whisper to Junie. “Receiving line, greet the hosts, go to our table to the left of the podium. Then we sit and wait it out.”

“Jesus, Cole. You said that in the car three times. I’ve got this.”

She does.

Everyone does.

Everyone except me.

Every time I repeated my plan, Hudson’s brow lifted further in the rearview until I was sure his head would explode.

He has a million and one reasons to be angry with me, every one of them valid, but he also knows what’s on the line. So no matter how much he may want to kill me, he’ll do everything he can to help me first.

That’s why guilt sits like spiky talons in my throat. I’ve now implicated him in my crimes. He said I should’ve done it sooner. Maybe he’s right, but here we are now.

And we both know that I’ll set fire to anyone to save Junie—I just hope it doesn’t come to that.

“I’m reassuring myself,” I say, absentmindedly scouting the layout.

She squeezes my arm once, which is more reassurancethan I deserve from a woman I haven’t been truthful to in six years. Shaking my head, I force that thought to the back of my mind because if I let myself feel the accumulation of my fuckups, I’ll stop functioning, and functioning is the only thing I have to offer this evening.

“This way,” I say, and Junie easily falls into step beside me.

Feeling a presence at my back, I glance over my shoulder to find a scowling Hudson ushering Nana Mae right behind us.

Regardless of how much he hates me right now, he’s still here, at my back, supporting me. He’s probably still carrying the shovel, but now it’ll be my body he buries.

He quirks an angry brow, and I move forward as though my limbs are in quicksand.

We’ve always supported you, you dumb fuck. You’re just too stubborn to let us in.His voice in my head is so real, I would’ve thought he’d uttered the words if I hadn’t been staring at him.

At the receiving line, I greet the managing partner, the senior VP of design, and two junior associates. I accept their handshakes and offer a smile I hope doesn’t resemble a grimace.

Junie is pleasant and reserved beside me. One guy holds on to her hand long enough to make it uncomfortable, but before I can rip his arm off, Hudson interjects, forcing the asshole to release her.

That’s when I spot Natalie.

Fuck. Fuck no. She’s not supposed to be here. What the hell is she doing here?

“Stay calm,” Hudson whispers so low and dangerous his tone could be a weapon. “Let me do my job, Cole.”

Which meansdo nothing. It’s the thing I suck at most.

Natalie’s at the end of the line, wearing a black dress and a smile that’s been calibrated for the room.

This close, I can see what the last six years have cost her. She looks tired—like a person gets when they’ve been running too long on borrowed fuel.

I can’t believe I was ever attracted to her.

The line moves too fast for my liking, and Junie’s fingers dig into my forearm.

“Cole.” Natalie’s voice peels away layers of my skin, and I clench my jaw to hide my reaction.

“Natalie.” I didn’t know my voice could throw darts with each syllable.