Page 9 of The Exit Strategy

Now her spite-filled rampage is going viral across social media, and the entire world has a front-row seat to her pain.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I already know it’s Hudson, so I don’t bother answering.

I’m surprised Junie hasn’t thrown Katie out yet. That woman means well, but she’s pushy as hell, and I can only imagine what she has in store for Junie.

The buzzing of my phone is incessant, but I’ll ignore Hudson for as long as possible. Whatever he has to say will change the course of my life. Temporarily, anyway, because Junie can only ever be temporary.

Nolan made sure of that when I left Boston behind. Even if my noble reasons for leaving feel thinner now, worn through by six years of silence and the look on her face when she told me she wasfine, the fact remains that she waseighteen when I realized I was falling in love with her. Eighteen when I’d already changed the trajectory of my life so she could live hers.

And the truth is, I couldn’t risk Junie by staying—I was stuck between a bad choice and a terrible one. The only decision I could afford was the one that gave Junie a chance.

My phone vibrates again, so I check it to get a feel for what I’m walking in on and groan.

Juniper & Her Berries:

Fen: Proof of arrival.

Fen: Picture sent.

That fucking asshole. When I don’t respond, he texts his second favorite group chat that I also actively avoid.

Fen & Tonic:

Fen: At least Spite-Berry didn’t punch you. How bad was it though?

What the hell do these guys think happened between us?

Hudson: On a scale of one to “she set the car on fire”?

Nolan: Just check in, Cole.

I pocket my phone without responding. With Hudson and Fen here, they’ll badger me in person anyway. It doesn’t mean that any of them will stop pushing the group chats, but they’ve had years to realize Juniper & Her Berries is not a place I belong anymore.

Forcing myself inside, I catch the door just before it slams shut behind me. The last thing I need is anyonepsychoanalyzing the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside my mind.

I pour myself a drink that I don’t taste, then start another just as the guys enter the kitchen.

“You up for this?” Hudson asks.

I nod and sip my second drink while pouring them each one as well.

“You know,” Fen says with a lilt to his tone that always leads to one of two things—jail or trouble that could lead to jail. I brace myself for what comes next. “We’re not twenty-three anymore. And she’s not the teenager we’re trying to help through a tragedy.”

I lift my hand, palm out, to stop him. Even if that’s true, Juniper’s still my best friend’s baby sister who has more damaged baggage than the Boston airport—and I’m still the man who could unwillingly ruin her future.

“You guys hungry?” I ask.

“Grabbed burgers an hour ago because Juniper was hangry,” Hudson says. “I just need a shower and a nap.”

“How long are you staying?” A month would be good. They’re much better at handling Junie now.

“Our flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning.” Hudson’s a dick. His smirk says it all. He’s dropping off a bomb and retreating to his life.

Hudson’s phone chimes, and he answers it before it can ring again.

“Hey,” he says in greeting.

“How’s it going?” Nolan asks. “Should I come home?”