“Seb?” Penny’s sudden intrusion made the walls of the kitchen press in on him even more. He didn’t want an audience. They couldn’t see him like this.
Before the thought was fully formed, he was moving. His suitcase sat against the wall just inside the den, like it had packed itself and was waiting for him. He grabbed it, along with the traitorous phone that sat on the coffee table, and stumbled for the front door.
“Seb!” Martin called. “Wait! Where are you going?”
The cold air on his face should have brought clarity, but Seb pushed onward up the street. He needed to go. It was cowardly, but it was too late to make his stand with his family. They had the advantage, and the only thing left for Seb was to not be here when they arrived.
Footsteps chased after him.
“Hey!” Martin’s face was flushed, and his eyes were wide as he caught up and stepped in front of him.
Seb hitched the overnight bag that contained everything he owned over his shoulder. “I can’t.”
“Stop! Just wait a minute.”
Seb didn’t slow. Martin’s hand pulled at him, and he danced away.
“Where are you going?”
“What do you care?” Better than admitting he didn’t know.
“Please.” Martin was breathing hard as he tried to keep up. “Talk to me. I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me for days.”
Seb wheeled on him. The bag fell to the ground with a thump.
“Days? You’re so concerned, aren’t you? How long did you wait before you went behind my back and called my brother?”
“He was worried.”
Seb snorted when Martin didn’t even try to deny the accusation. “He shouldn’t be. He hasn’t worried in years. Too busy protecting his own perfect image, while Seb the black sheep got on with his life. “
“He’s your brother. Of course he cares.”
“You think spending a weekend with them means you know them?” Seb’s hurt boiled into rage, whipping up like the flames that had destroyed his life. He had nothing left to protect but himself. “You think they care about anything but themselves and their own perfect lives? They’re just coming to gloat.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Where has he been? Huh? All these years? Since you’re so tight now, maybe you can tell me. In fact, since you seem to get along so well, why don’t you just forget about me? You’re not really Oliver’s type—he likes them to wear Gucci and bring a trust fund to the table—but maybe his good Samaritan act will extend to a pity fuck to massage his ego.”
As Seb hurled words at him, Martin’s shoulders slumped. The tiniest voice in the very back of his head said he needed to stop, but the fire was consuming him. He’d never known how to back down from an argument, and it was too late to learn now. His insides blackened like everything else in his life. He ignored the defeat rising in Martin’s eyes. Why shouldn’t Seb torch what had sparked to life between them? Martin had gone behind his back and, in the end, maybe fit better with Seb’s family than he ever had.
“What are you saying?” Martin’s voice was small.
“You can’t help me!” Seb’s voice echoed in the fading light of the street. “And neither can Ollie! And I don’t want your pity or your judgement. So go jerk each other off and pat yourselves on the back that you escaped before I dragged you down and ruined your life.”
“We don’t—Seb, you don’t mean that.”
Seb was done talking. Pain bracketed the edges of Martin’s mouth, and it was time to leave. Seb grabbed his bag off the ground and spun.
“Where are you going to go?” Martin called from behind him.
Seb didn’t answer, and there was no indication that Martin was following him. He stalked down the street as his guts smoldered and went to ash, leaving his life trailing behind him.
