“I told him not to do it.” I turn. One of the Kings—the one with the glasses—walks up to me. Samson Hall. “He’s lashing out. Give it a few days.” “You can tell him I won’t tolerate this shit for a few more days.” “He won’t listen.” I clench my teeth. “Why? Just leave me alone.” Samson laughs and shakes his head. “The more you resist, the more interesting you are to him, little lamb.” Hey little lamb, come out and play.
