Our anger had been replaced with something softer, something more vulnerable, and it was wreaking havoc on me. “I shouldn’t be here,” I said so quietly I couldn’t confirm if the statement was for me, for him, or God. “But you are!” he shouted in frustration, rage returning with a vengeance. I stepped back, not in fear of him, but in fear of how aroused his outburst had made me. Cole reached me in three strides, yanking me to him by my sweater. “You don’t get to run from me tonight. You face me and tell me what you’re doing here. Because we both know you’re aware of why.”
