Accuse; [v.], to find fault with; blame.
"Admit that you wanted to get rid of me the whole time!"
He's pissed off, but the words hit him like daggers. There's nothing that prepares him for that kind of accusation, and he can't help but feel hurt because of it. He crosses his arms over his chest and watches her through narrowed eyes. Unsure of what to say, he lets loose the first thing that comes to mind; an excuse.
"Tommy knows this area better than— "
"Ah, fuck that!"
She turns her back to him and faces the wall. He imagines that she's looking out the window from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out why she's so hurt. Tommy's footsteps are downstairs, creaking around on old hardwood floor. He tries again, the same excuse with different words. Please believe me.
"Well, I'm sorry, I trust him better than I trust myself."
It isn't a lie. There are times when they're walking across the country together, tired and hungry, that he isn't sure whether or not he can trust himself. But out there, he has no one else to turn to. He can't pawn things off onto Tommy. All he can do is his best.
"Stop with the bullshit! What are you so afraid of?" I'm afraid of you, "That I'm gonna end up like Sam? I can't get infected. I can take care of myself."
He has never wanted to scream so loudly in his life, to throw a temper tantrum and say that no, she cannot look after herself, and that she needs someone there to keep her safe, to help her get over water and get boosted up onto things that are out of her reach. He wants to say 'you need me, but I'm scared', because the last time someone needed him, he failed.
The accusation still pains him like knives still stuck in wounds. You wanted to get rid of me the whole time. He wants to crouch down beside her and assure her of the opposite. He wants to be kind. And instead, he reacts with anger.
"How many close calls have we had?!"