His presence filled the doorway like a shadow that didn't belong to the light. He wasn't dressed like a villain, but the darkness clung to him anyway. Grey pants, a buttoned-down shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows like he'd been doing work, horrible work, and a tired, almost gentle expression on his face.
Like this was normal.
Like this wasn't hell.
And the way he looked at me…
Like a twisted form of pride.
"I knew you would come," he said softly, like we were catching up over coffee. "You always come running when she was in danger."
I stood up slowly, heart pounding so hard I thought I'd collapse.
My fists clenched.
My blood boiled.
I turned to fully face him.
"You piece of crap, I swear to God, I'll make sure you leave this place in pieces."
"I didn't touch them."
"I brought all I could," I spat, glaring him down like my fury alone could keep him from turning his back on me. "Where are the kids?"
