Chadwicks POV
The drive back to the villa was a vacuum of noise. The engine hummed, the tires ate the asphalt, and the boy sitting in my passenger seat was a ghost. I didn't look at him. I couldn't. Every time I glanced at his silhouette, I heard that word echoing in my head. Hypocrites.
He was right, of course. That was the problem with Danny. He had this uncanny, bratty way of stripping back the layers of my carefully built life and pointing out the rot underneath.
I pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires like breaking bone. Danny didn't wait for me to kill the engine. He was out of the door before the lights dimmed, a streak of messy blonde hair disappearing into the house. I sat there for a minute, my hands still gripped tight on the leather of the steering
