Jake continues to refuse to acknowledge me, even when we get on the flight, his earphones in and his music blaring. He submerges himself in work across the aisle from me on his laptop, laying a bag on the seat beside him, making it clear he wants space. I grit my teeth and jut out my chin in anger. Getting up and shaking my head at him in fury.

Screw you, Jake, act like an asshole and I’ll happily treat you like one.

I move down the plane, pick a seat facing away and haul out my book. Not that I can focus. I’m seething that he’s behaving this way.

Why is it always about what he wants, and I must go along or be frozen out? Sometimes he’s impossible.

* * *

“You’re not coming?” I balk at him as I slide into the car that Jefferson is holding open for me, my heart falling to my feet like a heavy sandbag. Pain constricting in my throat.

“No, I’ve to go take care of a few things.” Jake avoids looking at me, his expression hard as he gazes off across the airfield toward an approaching familiar car. He lets Jefferson take our cases and load them in the boot as I stare with open astonishment through the wide car door.

to talk about things?” I plead, my angry resolve that has lasted through our entire flight dissipates, replaced with hurt. Anxiety and panic rising

now I’m the one who wants to talk. When

a confused look on his face. He obviously had orders to drive Jake’s pride and joy here and is wondering what the hell is eating his ass. Daniel looks him

asshole,” I spit at his retreating back, but he only lifts a hand in a gesture that dismisses me. A wave at an irritation that he doesn’t want to deal with; the pain rises up my

and thumbs Daniel out of the way arrogantly, he reluctantly moves out and around the car to get in the passenger side. Taking one last look at my direction and a

Oh, my god.

overwhelming despair inside of me as I try to figure out if we

engine so it roars across at me. The sound is both intimidating and terrifying. I’m pretty sure that if he had something

in a show of idiocy. Hand brake spinning it, so it’s facing the other way in a blink. He slams his foot down, wheel spinning viciously for a few seconds and takes off like a bat out of hell, the air ringing with the powerful engine and squealing of brakes. The stench of burned rubber and god knows what else tainting the oxygen around me. All I hear is the roaring hum as it clings to the tarmac and speeds out of sight, it makes me want to

the actual

things in the air like this, he’s obviously in arrogant asshole mode. Not since the boat, so very long ago, has he behaved this

than I realize, but there is no need for him to

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