Brycee

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“If I help you,” his breath comes out shaky, “then I want something out of it.”  I can feel the corner of my mouth begin to twitch, forming a rare expression: a smirk. I raise my eyebrows, sneering down at him with contempt. “How about you give me your fucking IP address and I don’t splatter your fucking brains on the wall?”
The Oath We Give (Hollow Boys, #5)
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