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“None of your damn business, and don't put yourself out for my benefit,” I bite out, my voice cutting through him like acid and he arches his brows in response to my tone.

“Fine be like that, but you're sitting at my table so I’m not moving.”

“Are you kidding me right now, you’re pulling this shit again,” I say loudly, disbelief filling me and I ignore the dirty looks I’m being given by the other patrons. There're no kids in here, so if I want to swear, I bloody well will.

“I guess we may as well talk to pass the time, what do you say Monterey?” His eyes are sparkling and daring me to get up and leave. Well, I refuse to give him what he wants, he’s stuck with me until I finish my sandwich. If it ever arrives.

“I got a cryptic lead on the mystery that is my brother’s life, I need to look into other things that happened on the same day of his death. I just don’t know what I’m looking for,” I say morosely as I start tearing at my napkin until it's nothing more than confetti.

“That’s what has put you in this mood, no I’m not buying it,” he shakes his head and reaches his hand out before snatching it back.

I guess he forgets for a moment how much he hates me and then, he remembers. That’s the only explanation I can think of.

“There’s some other stuff going on, but I don’t want to talk about it. Not to people who like and care about me and certainly not you,” yes I’m still being harsh but I don’t care. Let his feelings get hurt, why should that make me feel worse?

“Fair enough, so do you want some help?” He sounds as surprised by his offer as I feel, but he isn’t taking it back.

Harrison was never threatened by Dante, He isn’t a threat to his plans for me and he did mention H’s name to me at least twice. Maybe I should keep him close, just for a couple of days. I’m leaving anyway, so what could it hurt?

“Sure, why not,” I say with a smirk and he looks a little worried but he also looks intrigued, looks like we’re studying together again. Just like Padstow, but this time it’s to help me.

HE IS NOT IMPRESSED by my car, he thinks I should have bought new. But what’s the point if Dante does something else to this one, I’m not wasting my money this time.

“Have you had this checked out?’ He asks, looking at it with utter disdain curling his lip.

“No, but I can do that later,” I reply absentmindedly, and he tuts. Seriously?

“Bring it to the college when it starts up, I can check it over and get my tutor’s opinion while it’s there. It’ll be free as well,” he says and how can I refuse. I may have money, but I’m not in the business of wasting it. It can’t last forever.

I drive us back to ‘my place’ and he wastes no time in climbing out of my car and walking over to the front door. I can’t help but shake my head as I open it and he strolls in like he owns the place, arrogant arsehole.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” sarcasm is never a waste of breath, but maybe it is wasted on him as he smirks and continues to wander around the living room.

“I thought I was, don’t worry Henleigh I won’t get too comfortable,” he says with his own sarcasm before throwing himself down on my sofa and putting his feet up, boots and all.

Can I throat punch him? I mean, do I really need his help?

“You’re only making me hate you more.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you to start liking me now, would I?” He throws back as he sits up and leans his arms across the back of the sofa.

Guess I’ll be taking the chair, but first I better grab my laptop and tablet so we both have something to search with.

I sit down and put my earphones in, blaring REM’s Losing My Religion, and throwing myself into the day that made everything good in my life turn into shit.

I’ve been at it for an hour, but I can’t find anything. I don’t know what I’m doing, there isn’t anything that could tie into Elliott. Unless...I’m too close to him. I can’t see him as someone that could do something wrong, myself sure but not my El.

“I think I have something, but I don’t know if it's what you’re looking for,” H says and I don't think as I drop beside him on the sofa.

I’m sitting close enough that he doesn’t need to adjust the laptop on his lap and our thighs are pressing together. He looks at me with a question in his eyes that I can’t decipher, but he doesn’t try to move away.

I stare at the screen but I don’t understand what I’m looking at, what has this got to do with why Dante wants to end my life?

“You need to read the article but before that, I need to ask you something?” He says, looking at me with gentle eyes and its freaking me out. He should not be looking at me like this.

“Ask away,” I reply worriedly, as anxiety reins free.

“Where did Elliott’s accident take place and the exact date, I know you did tell me but I need to make sure,” he is being so serious.

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