Page 39 of Colt

The light feeling inside suddenly turned heavy. “What’s happened? Are you okay?”

He pulled his jacket from the back of his chair, his movements jerky. “Move it, Freya.”

I blinked up at him, eyebrows drawing together. “Who called you? Was it Dad?”

He looked at me pointedly, ignoring my question.

My blood cooled.

We’d had a great dinner and laughed, joked, and talked about old times. What the hell could’ve gotten Colt so worked up?

I stood with a slight wobble from the effect of the wine. Picking up my purse, I smoothed my dress and started slowly for the door.

“Wait.” Colt slid an arm across my shoulders, guiding me toward the exit. “Don’t want you tripping over.”

My eyes raised to meet his. “I’m perfectly capable of walking out of the restaurant.”

He let out a humorless snort. “What’s the matter? Worried your boyfriend will see?”

My eyebrows drew together questioningly. Colt made no sense, and I didn’t want to make things worse. I didn’t understand what had made him so angry with me? What had I done?

I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to make Colt even more pissed, but I also didn’t like him speaking to me that way. He needed to tell me if I’d done something wrong, so I could make it right, instead of acting like a dickwad.

A small wave of hurt washed through me as we approached the exit and walked out into the cool night air toward the car. A group of young guys walked past but didn’t say anything, probably because of the rigid set of Colt’s jaw and the fury flashing through his eyes.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

What the hell had happened when he stepped away from the table?

Colt clicked the key fob as we approached the car, and the lights flashed in the darkness as the locks disengaged.

“In,” he ordered.

Jesus.

“What the hell’s your problem?” I demanded, flinging the door open. My indignation flared at how he spoke to me. He was starting to push his luck. I prided myself on being understanding, especially regarding Colt, but I was no pushover.

He was heading into dangerous territory.

I slid into my seat, pulled my seat belt across, and clicked it into place before shooting Colt a quick glance as he started the car and sped out of our parking space.

The light caught his knuckles, and I did a double take. A couple of them were split and bloody. “What happened to your hand?” I asked, leaning forward to examine them more closely. “Did you get into a fight? Is that why you’re in a bad mood?”

He kept his eyes on the road, his face like thunder.

My stomach churned.

I didn’t like him driving so aggressively. I’d seen some awful sights in the ER because of dangerous driving. Colt was usually careful when he drove me anywhere. It was confusing, to say the least.

I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to make him madder. The evening had been so perfect. One minute, he put me on cloud nine, and the next, he brought me crashing back to Earth. How could everything have gone downhill so quickly?

I jutted my chin up. Screw him. I didn’t need this treatment. I didn’t need him.

It didn’t take long for the car to speed into the parking lot of my apartment block. Colt had driven so fast that he’d knocked five minutes off the journey.

I leaned forward to open the door the second the tires squealed to a stop.

“What’s the hurry,” he snapped. “Can’t you wait to get upstairs and call your asshat boyfr—?”

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