“I can’t—” I was going to say I can’t be reasonable about wearing someone else’s clothes, but the arm on the back of the seat hooks around my shoulders, and Hans presses his hand over my mouth. “You are going to listen to me for one fucking second before you finish that sentence. The backpack is full of your clothes, Cassandra Lynn. Your actual clothes.” My eyes widen. “I’m a sick fuck. I’ve crossed some pretty big lines when it comes to you. I won’t pretend otherwise. And I never wanted to drag you into the mess that is my life, but I still wanted to have you.” He uses his hold on me to pull
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