“What the fuck is wrong with you, Thompson?” Moore’s face is pale, and he presses both of his hands to his stomach. “Does that bitch have such a magic pussy that you’ve totally lost your mind? Attacking your teammate—” “She’s my girlfriend!” Colt bellows, and everyone goes silent at once. Even Bailey lets go of him. “And you don’t get to lay your fucking hands on her or her stuff. Back fucking off, Moore, and this picture will never see the light. But keep at it, and I’ll fucking destroy you. Am I clear?”
