Page 51 of The Sound Of Silence

I force a smile and wink at the cashier before responding. “Since there aren’t many options for coffee at this early hour, I’m going to say the chances were high.”

Tate slides out of his seat and strides toward me, his usual smirk in place. “Order your coffee and then we need to chat,” he states, before turning and walking away again.

Since I don't want to make a scene, I do as he says, adding a breakfast burrito to my order before following him in silence.

“What the fuck was that bullshit you pulled at the function?” he asks the moment I sit down, his teeth clenched underneath his fake smile. With all his projected confidence, I’ve rattled him. And that makes me even more concerned about just how fucked-up this situation is. Not that I let him see that concern.

“The bullshitIpulled?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of me. “Yousent your friend to dance with her! Shouldn’t you be wanting tostay the fuck away? And what have you told him?”

“I haven’t said a word.” He scoffs. “And I don’t control Alex. He does whatever the hell he wants.”Alex. I don’t need to hear his name. That dick is on my shit list.“Plus he has nothing to do with this.”

“And yet you signaled for him to back off?”

His brows furrow before the corner of his lips curl into a smirk, presumably realizing I noticed. “Is that what you think that was? Fine. Yes, it was a message.”

“A message? Really? How about you just man up and say it to my face.”

“I was trying to make sureyoustayed the hell away. I was around her foryearsand nothing happened. She doesn’t remember me and she doesn’t remember that day.I kept my distance. You blow into town for five fucking minutes and you’re moving in with her. How did you expect me to react?”

He’s not wrong, and that’s exactly why I’m leaving. “Believe it or not, I have no plans to dredge up the past. I know what will happen if she remembers, and I know it won’t bode well for any of us. I’m trying to stay away. But you and your man need toleave her be.When are you heading home?” A little part of me worries about leaving him here with her, but I don’t think it’s wise to stay any longer.

“I’m leaving today. Home to Seattle. Within the hour.”

“Good. Me too. So we won’t have any issues. We can both go back to our blissfully happy, Willow-free lives.”

Tate snorts out a laugh. “I’m glad one of us is blissfully happy.”

Guilt hits me as he finishes his coffee and rises from the booth. When all the shit went down twelve years ago, I left. Somehow I lucked out with an amazing foster family and was able to follow my dreams. Tate wasn’t so lucky. From what I was told, he ended up with another family in the area that wasn’t much better than ours was. And the guilt I feel about leaving him still eats me alive.

Because he told me to go.

For the short time we lived together, we were like brothers. I may have never experienced what it was like to have parents, but I had Tate. And even though, like a brother, he was annoying as fuck, we had each other’s backs. We went through things no one should ever have to go through. And in the end, it changed us both.

“You dating Pippa means we will always have a problem,” Tate says, interrupting my thoughts. “So if staying away doesn’t work out, we’ll have to think of some other way to deal with it. But for now, it’s goodbye.” He storms off, leaving his threat hanging in the air and my nerve endings on edge. I see red.Who the hell does he think he is?And how did we let this all go so wrong?

“Why’d you come back if you’re worried?" I yell as he reaches the door. "Why not stay away for good?”

Tate pauses, his hand gripping the handle as he looks over his shoulder. “It’s notmeI’m worried about.”

With that, he pushes out into the street, raising a hand above his head in a half wave.

The server delivers my coffee and food, but just looking at it makes me want to throw up. That entire conversation has my skin prickling. I know he’s right. I’m more connected to her than he is—always have been—but what the fuck did that threat mean?And to think I’d just been feeling guilty.

My stomach sinks as a knot forms in my chest. I really need to get out of here, now more than ever. For my sakeandhers.

“We’re leaving,” I say as soon as I walk in the house not even worrying if Willow is home. “If it’s not already in your bag, it’s staying.” I slam the front door, startling Pippa as she texts on her phone, her sour expression telling me coffee was a good idea.

“The workshop’s not for a couple of hours,” she says, reaching out to take the cup from my hand.

“That may be true, but it will take us just under an hour to drive there, and I need preparation time.”Seems like a valid excuse. Thank God, they don’t have any hockey facilities here.

“Fine,” she says. “My bag’s over there. I just need to send this text.”

My anger fades when she doesn’t argue again, and I whisper a quick thanks before packing her car.

“Can we stop past Willow’s shop to say goodbye to my mom?” she asks as we pull out of Willow’s driveway, no emotion in her voice. She looks so defeated that I almost pull over and tell her we can stay the remaining night, but I can’t.

“Yeah, ah, we can do that. Is Willow there?”

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