Page 65 of The Muse
“Persephone!” Landon shouts after us, but I ignore him and keep going.
“Well, considering I haven’t heard from or seen you in a few days, it wasn’t guaranteed,” Scott continues.
“I need to get out of here. Come on. And what were you doing here in the first place?”
“Don’t start, Seffi. I can only fight one Broderick at a time.”
I halt on the steps of Earlwood House. “If you keep throwing comments like that back in my face, how are we ever going to move past our names and focus on our relationship?”
The sound of Landon’s feet marching through the hallway towards us, anger in every stride, is enough that I take off again, towing Scott with me at pace. I can't deal with my brother anymore, let alone cope with two arguments at the same time. My emotions are eating me up inside, threatening to burst from my chest if I don’t escape.
Heartbeat thundering as if I’ve just completed a rehearsal, I huff and run down the steps. “Keep going,” I mutter, hurrying across the drive.
“You know what it means, you leaving here?” Scott asks, pointing at a taxi idling.
“I do.”
Opening the door, I dive into the back seat and shut the door on both Landon and Earlwood House. I glare through the window and watch as my brother stands on the top of the steps, his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down on me. Even now, seeing him and everything he represents, all of it looming over me, cements the decision I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to make. I never came here to say goodbye, yet that’s where this has ended. And although I didn’t speak the words, they're rife inside my furious mouth.
We lock our gaze, both so full of anger but for entirely different reasons.
“Drive,” Scott says, sliding in beside me.
Yes. Drive.
The silence lingers in the space between us. So many things unsaid, and the worst thing? I fear I’ve said too much to Landon. Too much to ever take back, at least.
“Now that’s decided, there’s probably a lot of stuff we need to sort. I’ve already booked tickets, but I can add another one easily enough.”
“Decided what?” I look at him blankly. I’ve just lost my family. I’m not sure I can take anything further, today.
“Coming to Paris.”
I search his eyes, hoping to find a sliver of the love I need right now. Scott is meant to be my support in situations like these. That's what partners do. They cover the painful, raw emotions that only your family can find in you—help you to quell the rising hysteria and panic that’s caused by the ones you love. And they can help, because they love you in return.
Running off to Paris is not on the top of my list of discussion points. And I won’t tolerate his bragging ego about winning over my brother either.
Visiting Earlwood tonight forced my hand. I won’t be put in that position again.
“I’m not sure about Paris yet, Scott.”
“But you said you knew what walking out meant.”
I swivel in my seat and make sure I’m facing him so there’s no room for misinterpretation on this one. “Walking out of Earlwood means walking out on my family. One of the concessions I’m making to be with you. It doesn’t mean that I’m automatically going to jump on a plane and go to Paris with you.”
His lips thin, and I wait for his quick tongue to go to work on me, but it doesn’t. He’s quiet all the way back to the apartment. In fact, the atmosphere is so heavy that I’m exhausted by the time we reach the front door. All I want is to crawl into his bed and recover from the sting of Landon’s words and their far-reaching consequences.
The slam of the door behind me is louder than a starting pistol but has the same effect.
“You don’t want to come to Paris?” Scott asks. Although, it’s more of a statement than a question.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” My weary voice wants to scream but sounds resigned to the fight that’s impending.
“Then what the hell are you saying, Seffi, because I'm fucking lost here?” He waits, his mood sliding further into anger every second I try to figure out how to respond.
“You know something, you’ve already decided to go to Paris, with or without me.”
“So?”
