(Damian)
I slammed my fist on the table in the surveillance room that I came to, my jaw was tight as I stared at the screen.
There she was.
Sitting on the damn floor, hugging her knees like I was some kind of monster. She looked so small. So angry. Her lips moved, yelling something I couldn’t hear, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what she was saying.
She hated me.
And maybe she should.
But she didn’t get it. She didn’t know what it felt like. Hearing her say she wanted to leave—after everything I did for her, to make her feel safe. I snapped. I knew it. And still, I locked her in. Like an i***t.
I watched her throw herself at the door again. She was shouting. I could see it in her face. Her hands were red from pounding. Her eyes were puffy.
My chest tightened.
“Damn it,” I mu
