Cole went still.
Completely, terrifyingly still.
His hands dropped from my face, his head lowering slightly, and for a moment, I thought—hoped—he would take a deep breath, rein it in. But then his fingers curled into fists, his jaw clenched, and when he lifted his head again, his eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them.
Not just anger.
Murder.
I stepped back. "Cole—"
He turned.
And walked away.
Not a word. Not a glance. Just pure, deadly purpose as he strode toward the front doors.
Panic surged through me.
"Cole, wait!" I reached for his arm, but he jerked away, ripping the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.
He was out the door before I could stop him, moving fast.
Too fast.
I ran after him. "Cole! Stop!"
He didn't.
My voice rang through the estate disrupting the calmness of the evening.