“Better?” Zeke sounds incredulous. “Bash, she’s blind. She’s out there somewhere, completely f*****g blind, and you think it’s better that we can’t find her?”
“Oh, yeah? Yasmin? Yasmin, who’s got a stalker ex who put me in the hospital? Yasmin’s got enough of her own s**t to worry about, man! You really think that’s a stable support system?”
I clench my jaw. “What do you want me to say?”
“For starters, you could act like you give a s**t!” Zeke steps close enough that I can see my own reflection in his sunglasses, the reflection I’ve fought like hell to avoid. It’s even worse than I expected—grotesque, emotionless, wrong. “I want you to be the guy I thought you were. The guy that she thought you were. Not this…” He gestures at me, disgust clear in every line of his body. “Whatever the f*
