Page 22 of Coming Home

But he just picked up his fork and began to eat his eggs.

We moved through the rest of the meal in a fragile silence. Or rather, he ate and I executed my routine. A tiny corner of toast here, a measured sip of tea there, rearranging what was left so the plate looked handled.

James had been a meticulous instructor; I was a master of appearing fed.

Ralph didn't say anything about my plate, but I could feel him watching, and there was none of the sharp edge I'd learned to expect. With James, being watched had always meant being measured. This was different. I could tell Ralph was just scared, quietly terrified I was disappearing right in front of him, and he had the decency not to say so.

The milkshake sat untouched between us.

Outside, the street still smelled of rain. As we crossed to the SUV, I pulled in one steadying breath and launched into the formal script I'd been drafting since dawn.

"Ralph, I need to thank you properly. For the car, for retrieving my things from the apartment, for breakfast... you've been more than decent to me, and I won't forget it." I kept my eyes on the sidewalk. "But I'm leaving this afternoon. I'll go back to the motel, and I can handle things from there."

He stopped dead on the concrete. I took two more steps before realizing the shadow beside me had vanished, and turned around.

"What motel, Emma?"

"I'm not giving you the address."

"What's the name on the sign?"

"I'm not telling you, Ralph."

He stood there with his hands buried deep in his denim pockets, his dark glasses reflecting the gray skyline, and I could practically hear the gears turning behind his eyes. Then his jaw set into a hard, stubborn line.

"I'm going to give you two options," he said, his voice dropping into that register he used when he was about to win an argument with an official.

"And you can pick whichever one hurts less."

"I don't like sentences that start that way."

"Option one: You get back in my truck, you stay in my guest room, and I know for a fact you're behind a door with working locks and hot water."

"Ralph—"

"Option two:" He cut me off, "I pull out my phone right now, call Theo, and tell him exactly which Silver Lake gutter I dragged his sister out of, the condition she was in, and exactly what James did to her suitcase."

My jaw dropped. "You wouldn't dare."

"Then I let Theo handle it however he sees fit. Which, based on twenty years of experience, will involve about forty frantic phone calls, an immediate private investigator, your mother landing at LAX by dinner time, and a level of Carrow family intervention that will make this sidewalk look like a spa day."

"That is literal blackmail."

"I prefer to think of it as aggressive motivation."

"That is cruel, manipulative, emotional terrorism, Ralph Brandt!"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his sleek black phone, and unlocked it with a swipe of his thumb. He held the screen up, close enough for me to read the word Theo glowing at the top of his contact list. His finger hovered less than a millimeter above the glass, one dark eyebrow arching over the rim of his sunglasses.

"You are exactly the same snitch you were back then," I said, my voice climbing, my hands flying out of my pockets. "You have always gone straight to my brother the second you decided you knew what was best for my life! Do you remember Malibu? I was sixteen years old, I snuck out to one beach party, and you ratted me out to my dad before the bonfire was even lit!"

"It was a college house party," he countered, his mouth twitching. "You were sixteen, there was zero adult supervision, and someone was trying to hand you tequila out of a plastic jug."

"There is always tequila in Malibu, Ralph! And you called my father at eleven o'clock at night like a hall monitor with a savior complex!"

"Your father called me back the next morning and thanked me."

"My father deadlocked my bedroom window! I climbed through the laundry chute for all of junior year because of you!" I yelled, stepping closer to him, my chest heaving under my hoodie. "A laundry chute, Ralph! An entire year! Because of you!"