Chapter 17

“Sure,” I say, getting to my feet. “And now you’ve said it. Bye.” Without giving him another look, I walk out. Calm, not rushing. Even though it’s more of an escape than an unflappable retreat, I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing. He yells my name, but I don’t stop or turn around. Instead, I jump into my car and drive home where I throw off my clothes, step into the shower, and scrub this freaking day off my skin.

* * * *

When Pippin gets home, I’m balancing on a ladder up by the ceiling, furiously sanding the walls in tempo with Slayer growling about blood raining from the sky.

Pippin looks at me with a raised eyebrow and the hint of an amused smile when I wave at him but make no effort to climb down or lower the volume. The music is so loud, the neighbors three blocks over can probably figure out my state of mind.