The car ride home could only be described as torture. Jacob's grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles were white, and he was taking deep breaths as he tried to contain his composure, but he was only just managing it.
"Jacob, can we talk about tonight, please?" Francine asked calmly, trying to avoid setting his bad mood off any further than it was already.
"I'd suggest you keep your mouth shut until we get back to the packhouse," he warned lowly, darting his eyes briefly towards her before focusing back on the dark road ahead of them.
So that was it, they were back in the same damned place again where he was so angry he wouldn't see reason or even hear her out. She was getting sick of this already.
The car barely stopped outside, and she stormed out of it and inside.
