“Don’t say anything else.” His eyes narrowed at Suzanne. “We’re leaving.”
Knowing it was the right thing to do, and actually following through, were two very different things. Asher didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to run and hide this time. Every cell of his body wanted to rage against his parents, to tell the world what kind of people they really were.
“Asher,” Cameron said, pulling insistently at his arm. “This isn’t the place.”
“He’s right.” Ryder appeared, angling himself between Asher and his parents. “If you’ll just come with me, Mr. Dare.”
Realizing that the small group of reporters had turned to him now, their faces eager and hungry, Asher choked back the vile, incriminating words threatening to spew from his lips. His parents had baited him, lured him into this trap, and worse, he’d let them.
“Yeah,” he said, pushing away from the table, “let’s go.”
Questions followed him all the way out of the building, but he kept this head down and said nothing. It took less than five minutes to make it through the building and outthe back door to the waiting Escalade. No one followed them.
Cameron cursed loudly as Ryder peeled out of the parking lot and turned toward Main Street. “I can’t believe that twisted, manipulating, slimy bastard! I’m going to rip his goddamn head off and spit down his neck hole.” He slammed his palm against the leather seat and grunted. “Fuck!”
For some insane reason, seeing Cameron completely losing his shit had the exact opposite effect on Asher. Instead of stoking his temper, it…calmed him.
“It’s okay, Cameron.”
“What about this is okay?” He whipped around, his eyes wild and a little desperate. “We need to call Talon. He needs to know that Landon was there.”
Asher tilted his head. “Landon was there?”
“Yeah, he stopped me when I was on my over to the table. Willow—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “Never mind. The point is he was there, and I think he’s the one who brought your parents.”
Pulling to a stop in front of Cameron’s illuminated driveway, Ryder killed the engine and opened his door. “I’ll give you two a minute. I’m just going to check the perimeter.”
Cameron thanked him, then threw open his own door to exit the vehicle. Cursing loudly, he paced up and downthe driveway, waving his hands around and shaking his head at whatever argument he was having with himself.
Asher followed at a more leisurely pace, not even sure what he felt anymore. He’d gone from shocked, to furious, to concerned in the span of about ten minutes.
Now, he just felt numb.
When Cameron suddenly turned and stormed toward the house, Asher didn’t follow. Rounding the SUV, he stopped near the front bumper and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
“I should go.”
Cameron paused halfway up the painted steps and turned. It seemed to take him a long time to decide what he wanted to say. “If that’s what you want.” He jerked his head toward the front door. “Let me just pack a bag.”
“No.”
“No?” Cameron descended one of the steps but stopped when Asher backed away. “Are you okay?” Dropping his head, he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should have asked that sooner.”
Truthfully, Asher didn’t know if he was okay or not.
The longer he had to dwell over what had happened, the harder he began to spiral. It had been almost two decades since he’d seen his parents, and he’d accomplished a lot during that time. It hadn’t been easy, and there was much of his past he’d rather not remember, but he’d made it. Yet, seeing them in that library, staringinto the faces who had made his life hell then discarded him like trash, he was right back to being that scared little boy all over again.
Things had just been starting to return to some semblance of normal, but he knew that by morning, the story of his tearful reunion with his family would be headline news. Reporters would be scrambling for another angle on the story, and they wouldn’t care where it came from. He’d already put Cameron through so much, and now, it looked like it was starting all over again.
It wasn’t fair, not to him, and certainly not to Cameron.
God, he couldn’t think. His head ached and spun, his thoughts racing too fast for him to focus on any one point. He needed to be alone. He needed time to get his head straight. As childish as it sounded, he needed five damn minutes to just wallow in his misery without an audience.
Instead of explaining all of this like an actual adult, however, what he said was, “I’m fine. I just need to go home.”
Cameron tensed, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re running again.”
It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t exactly wrong, but in this instance, he wasn’t right, either. Asher wasn’t running. He was escaping. A subtle difference, but an important one.
