Opening the door, I step up behind him, closing us in together. His head lifts, but he doesn’t turn, making me second-guess whether or not I should’ve come in here at all. But when I raise a shaky hand, placing it between his shoulder blades, he stands up straight, reaching around and yanking me so I’m pressed with my back against the wall in front of him. My heart hammers in my chest as he towers over me, the look of sadness and dejection that was painted across his face moments ago long gone—only to be replaced with something that eerily resembles animalistic, primal rage. If I didn’t trust
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