17 Chapter 17

“Well, maybe I can help,” I said confidently and setting my helmet down on a chair in the front. You know, just in case I had an urge to knock it against Ethan’s noggin. I gave Ethan a long look. “We could get to know each other.”

Ethan frowned as though I’d suggested with get in a jerk circle together, and then waved us off. “I don’t need help. Just go. It’s fine.”

“No, Ethan—”

“Myles, get out of here, will you?” Ethan stepped into the backroom and slammed the door shut.

I stared at Myles, waiting, hoping he’d come with me.

But you and I both know what psychological abuse is and how hard it is to get from under someone’s thumb.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” he whispered and stepped up to me. “Sorry for bailing on you.”

“You’re missing out on a Dairy Queen cake.” I tugged on his shirt. “And a ride on my Italian monster.”

“Don’t torture me.” He gave me a quick hug and hurried away. “It’s okay,” he called out from the back. “I’ll call you later.”