Page 85 of Hushed

Kenzie sucked in a breath as Gage pinned her against the door and glared daggers into her.

“I messaged you,” she squeaked, trying to soothe his anger.

He kept her pinned with one hand and pulled his phone from the front pocket of his jeans with the other. “Read it.”

The screen was on their text chain, and her last message to him was at the bottom.

“Fucking read it,” he demanded again, his hot breath skating across her cheek.

Her voice trembled, but she read the message out loud. “I’m leaving. The door is locked. Call you later.”

She wasn’t sure she understood the problem.

He shoved the phone back in his pocket and continued glaring. “That gives me zero information, Kenzie. Are you leavingbecause you’re mad? Are you leaving to go meet someone? Where the fuck are you going?”

He ticked off the questions one at a time on his hand and held three fingers in front of her face to punctuate the last one.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She hated making people mad. Why was he being a dick about this?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I got bored, and you said you were going to be gone for a while, so I thought I would take care of myself for a change. When I was scrolling through my phone, I remembered that a friend of mine lives here, so I called to see if she could meet up. She owns a little live music venue in town, and I wanted to check it out before she had to open for the evening. You’re hurting me.”

He immediately let her go and stalked into the living room, and she scurried after him.

“Please don’t be mad at me. I was safe, I promise.”

“I’m furious,” he growled. His fists clenched as he stared at her. Then he backed away. “I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”

He stalked off without another word.

It hurt, and she wanted to follow him, but he clearly wanted to be alone, so she didn’t. Instead, she walked to the table and pulled out her laptop and put on her headphones. She blasted some music while she opened up one of her design programs to work on something, anything. But focusing was impossible, so she pulled out the drawing pad attachment and plugged it in and did some freehand art instead.

It came out angry but gorgeous. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but as she was finishing the piece, a hand touched her shoulder and she jumped, jerking the headphones off.

“Can we talk?” Gage asked in a quiet tone.

She dropped her head, feeling defeated but finally looked up at him. “Sure.”

“I’m sorry for getting so angry,” he said, his tone still soft.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” she offered, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“It’s hard for me to have someone to constantly worry about.”

“You don’t have to constantly worry about me, Gage. That’s not required for us to be together.”

He let out a staccato laugh. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe if you would give me more information about the last few years of your life, I would know you better.”

“Fair enough. First, you need to understand that I’m going to worry about you. Constantly. And I need your help easing some of that worry. I understand I didn’t explicitly tell you to stay here, but I thought that was clear.”

She shook her head. “It crossed my mind, but I didn’t want to bother you. I’m a big girl, and I needed to get out and meet someone.”

“You should have had your friend come to the house.”

“She couldn’t. She was getting ready to open The Studio.”

Gage cocked his head to one side. “Your friend is Quinn?”

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