He looks exactly the same.
I've changed everything and he's standing there like time stopped the day I left his apartment with my dress still in the closet.
"There you are." Like I'm a runaway pet. "We need to talk."
My legs stop working. One second—just one horrible second—every muscle in my body screams run.
Out the back.
Into Finn's truck.
Disappear into the desert until he gives up.
But Holt's hand is on my back. Not pushing. Just there.
And I'm tired of running.
"No." It comes out shaky but it comes out. "We don't. You need to leave."
He laughs. That sound. I hate that sound—patient and patronizing like I'm having a tantrum and he's the reasonable adult waiting for me to calm down and apologize. "Scout, don't be dramatic. I drove all the way here to—"
"I didn't ask you to."
Stronger now. My feet find the concrete—solid, real, mine. I take a step forward and Holt moves with me. Not in front. Beside.
"I left," I say. "That was my answer."
"You embarrassed me." His eye’s narrow. Just a twitch but I see it—muscle jumping under skin. "You embarrassed yourself. It's time to come home and fix this."
The heat presses in. 110 easy, and the fans are just pushing hot air in circles. Evan's cologne cuts through the oil smell, and my face goes hot. Not embarrassment. Anger.
My voice steadies. Clicks into place like a socket wrench finding the bolt. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Scout."
Soft now.
Reasonable.
The tone designed to make you doubt yourself.
"I know you're scared. I know you think you can't trust yourself to make good decisions—"
"Stop."
"But I forgive you. I'm willing to work through this if you just—"
"I said stop."
Louder. Finn shifts and I catch the look on his face—coiled, ready to jump in. But this is mine.
"I don't need your forgiveness," I say. "I don't need you."
His smile cracks. The corners pull wrong—tight instead of up, tearing at the edges. His eyes go flat.
That look.
The one that used to come right before he'd explain how I'd misunderstood him, how disappointed he was, how I'd brought this on myself.
