“I got out because of you, Bun,” he mutters, just before I close the door, holding me hostage in his throaty sorrows. I turn, but only slightly, enough to gaze at his rigid, weighed-down posture. His blazing blue eyes find me watching, and he traps me in those, too. “I didn’t—” I begin to say, instantly silenced when he storms to me. “You lit a fire under my ass.” He smirks, a low husk in his tone. “I got out because of you, and I’m going to make sure I thank you for that every day I’m free.”
