Fuck.
I’m losing this conversation.
I shift in my seat. “I’m sure Barlowe talked about me. Right?”
He doesn’t respond, but I watch his hands begin to fidget in his lap.
“Were you close?” I ask.
Larkin breaks eye contact with me and looks toward the dark window, as if even his thoughts are desperate to get away from this conversation.
“How long were you at the training camp with him?”
Again, no reply, he remains lost in thought, the tremble in his hands increasing with each passing second. I notice his jaw tense as the rising tension around us becomes unbearable, even making me uncomfortable in my own skin.
I lean forward, growing more frustrated by the second, “Did you hear of his passing?”
Larkin stands, nearly knocking the chair over behind him. His chest heaves, and his eyes flip between panicked and angry as he looks at me.
“I think you should leave.”
“What?” My mouth falls open. “Why?”
“Because it’s late, and you need to go check on Silas.”
“That man is fine,” I protest. “I wanted to speak with you.”
He places his hands in his pockets. “I never asked to speak with you.”
“Gods,” I exclaim, standing after him. “You are so fucking rude.”
He barks a laugh and shrugs. “I’m sorry you find my honesty offensive.”
“No, you aren’t.”
He steps toward the door. “You are right.”
I glare at him, doing a horrible job at hiding the annoyance that boils out of me.
“There’s so much I don’t know about my brother once he left. I was hoping you could help me understand some things I’ve been questioning.”
“Why would you think I could help you?” he snaps.
“Because you were the only friend Barlowe ever spoke about.”
“Friend?” He huffs. “I barely knew your brother, okay? So, I wouldn’t be able to help with anything, anyway.”
Larkin walks to the door, forcefully pulling it open wide for my departure. The darkness of the hallway billows through the door, and I storm forward, never breaking my stare. I push past him and step back into the hallway, still shocked by his rudeness.
I turn around, determined to say my piece. “I don’t think that’s true, Larkin.”
“Think what you’d like, then. It’s not my job to convince you otherwise.”
My mouth falls open, and Larkin only stares at me, his dark gaze burning into mine.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I push.
Larkin glares at me one last time. No gentleness or kindness lies behind his dark gaze, and I cross my arms, expecting them to soften at any moment.
