38
Back in the pickup, Ethan drummed his fingertips against the wheel. “You almost lost your cool in there.” Although I couldn’t see his face from my spot on the backseat, I knew he spoke to Sean.
“You saw how the kid came at Jem,” Sean said. “What did you expect me to do?”
I ran my fingers over the two books in my lap, something trying to click in my mind but not quite catching. “The kid has issues,” I mumbled absently.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “But no amount of surface attitude can diminish the stench of fear. The kid’s scared. And confused. And as frustrated as he has every damn right to be.”
“And that made him a risk,” Sean said before twisting in his seat. “You okay?”
I placed the diary on the seat beside me and flipped up the top cover of the grimoire, like that’d help me figure out
