Page 60 of Change
“No.” I couldn’t quite make out what he was thinking from his features, but there was a hint of red shadowing the green of his eyes. “I don’t need to. But I do think Miles and Damen are right.”
Why in the world were we talking about Miles and Damen?
Not that I minded. I liked them both a lot. But the boys had that weird rivalry about not wanting to talk about each other when alone with me.
“You try to find a distraction when you’re upset,” Titus answered.
Oh.
I remembered that theory. Miles had really thought he was onto something, but he was wrong. And Damen had been so very cocky about it too.
How dare they tell the others this very incorrect thing.
They could be so assuming sometimes.
And why wouldn’t Titusneedto read my mind?
Titus touched my chin, holding my face firmly. The red seemed to grow deeper as he said, “You’re not going anywhere near that house.”
Excuse me? Indignation began to stir in my stomach. “Yes, I am.”
His features tightened. “No, you’re not.”
How dare he try to manage my recovery. That’s what they’d all been going on about, right? That I should deal with this. He should be happy. “You can’t stop me.”
“You’re not ready!” He dropped his hand from my face, slamming his palm against the top of the table. “You can’t even say his name.”
My blood was hot, racing through me. “Eric Richards, Eric Richards, Eric Richards.”
“He’s not ‘Bloody Mary’,” he muttered. “That would be too easy.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, so I ignored him. “I want to help!”
“The only reason you’re not scared right now is because you’re angry at me.”
“I’m not angry.” I huffed, crossing my arms. That was preposterous. I was completely in charge of my emotions.
His mouth thinned and his eyes flashed. “Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” This was stupid. I was going to go there and not speak a word. That way I wasn’t technically breaking any rules and they could do whatever it was they needed for their case.
Easy peasy.
Titus groaned, stepping back as he covered his eyes with his hand. “You’re so stubborn.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Stop it!” He dropped his arm and glared at me.
Glared. Like, how dare he.
“You’re extremely stubborn,” he said, almost accusingly. “But you’re not considering something.”
“What’s that?” I asked, my blood still burning.
“I’mmore stubborn than you.” He crossed his arms, glowering. “Ihaveto be, and I’ve had lifetimes of practice. Just likeyou’vehad lifetimes of sacrificing yourself for other people. You’re still thinking of everyone else first. So, no, you’re not going unless you can convince me that youwantto. Not that you’re doing it to impress Maria or any of us, or that you’re feeling pressured to help. I can figure this out without you.”
“But Iwantto go.” My voice wavered as my anger shook.
