“You.” An amber bottle, dark and unopened is set on the table, Heugh sitting himself down gracelessly with feet set atop the unoccupied seat aside him.” Drink.”
She just runs a finger down the condensation on the bottle. “That’s not going to get me to open up.”
That was all it took to get the a hole through it; one simple punch. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling, but it definitely wasn’t something good. Maybe this was what the others called anger.
But he never felt it so strong.
“Don’t move, soldier, or I’ll knock you out.”
One single step behind him and he already knew there was someone in the room. Maybe they just entered, maybe they were watching for a while. But Pat’s plan was to punch the crap out of that punching bag and the wall just seemed like a better choice after a bit of time.
He turned his head to face the other, not caring who it was, sibling, ally, even enemy. “What the hell do you want?”
“I thought I might work out,” Summer said mildly. “That okay?” She looked at the wall, eyebrow raised, then back at Pat. Oh, anger. Deep, driven anger. There was a lot of that around today. Something had gone very sideways somewhere. Could she coax this guy to tell her? Hell, maybe he /needed/ to tell her. Or someone.
“Maybe I need to be working out my listening ear instead.”
