Quentin slammed the door behind him as soon as he entered the study. The loud thud of the door echoed throughout the house, but Ryan barely looked up from the paperwork that he was shuffling around.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Quentin demanded.
"Nothing, Q. Nothing's wrong at all,'' Ryan denied emotionlessly.
"Don't give me that bullsh*t, Ry. You have done your damnedest to not only avoid us but make it to where we don't want you around," Quentin accused him.
"It doesn't look like either one of you has exactly missed me," Ryan scoffed, but Quentin could see a flash of pain on his face.
"Then you haven't been looking close enough. But that doesn't shock me since you have been so wrapped up in your misery you couldn't possibly see what you have been doing to us," Quentin replied, crossing his arms over his chest.