Saying "I quit" to the person who treated Cedrick no better than an ant felt good… for a second. The old coworker wasn't even the owner, but a bully who thought he could trample on someone just because they were younger.
However, the ecstasy of that moment faded just as quickly as Cedrick sat down in the backseat. Reality slowly sank in: he had quit and now put his life in the hands of someone who couldn't even distinguish an eyeliner from a lipstick—as she was wearing both.
The Angel's Revenge…
Cedrick lowered his head, his fingers entwined as he thought about it. A loud pounding filled his chest. Even with the AC on in the car, he could feel sweat forming on his back and forehead.
Can I really trust her?
He looked up at the driver's seat, ignoring the person riding shotgun. Though it was a little too late to wonder, the nervousness was still there.
Why did I even agree?
