“Akind boy?” He laughs wildly. “Is that what you think Iwantto be seen as, you stupid bitch? I’m trying to do you a favor. Harry is—”
“Not who I think he is. Yeah, I already know that. But I’m not going to be pulled in by your lies and manipulation anymore. Just get the heck away from me.”
I push past him. He wheels on me, making to grab my hand.
I yank it away and hear the floorboards creak as the barman starts approaching us.
I aim my finger at Adam, trembling, but not letting him see the note of fear that thrums through me.
“I’m fricking done,” I hiss. “I’m done with you, Adam, Markus, whatever the heck your name is. I’m done with the camp. I’m done with bowing and scraping for sponsors, especially when they’re not fricking real.”
And I’m done with Harry.
But I don’t say that, not to Adam.
That’s private pain.
I grab my purse and push past him, pacing into the street and toward my car.
I’m so lost in thought, a taxi almost runs into me, the driver half leaning out of the window and waving his hand, yelling something I can’t even hear over the drumming of my own anxiety.
Adam didn’t deny it when I said Harry treats Gemma right.
Because he can’t.
Harry and Gemma are a couple and they have a kid together.
And by hanging around, I’m just getting in the way.
I climb into the car and slam the door, causing the metal frame to tremble.
I’ll just return to the camp to pick up my things, and then I’m out of there.
I’d rather wait tables and work on my blog on the side than deal with this tangled mess.
