With eyes like a midwinter’s night, tension billows off him. “He touch you?” Colt’s jaw tics furiously. Stopping a foot or so in front of where I’m hovering just outside the barn, he folds his arms and looks me over with an intensity that sucks all the air from the space between us. My hesitation possibly just signed the man’s death warrant. Colt advances on me, and I’m hastily backing up until my spine collides with the wood exterior beside the double doors. “Answer the fucking question, Layla.” “Not really.” I can’t even breathe with how murderous this man looks. “He grabbed my braid is
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