Ryan sat at the kitchen table, staring at the food he'd prepared.
It had been hours since Marcus left for Apex Holdings that morning. Hours of Ryan sitting here, checking his phone, listening for footsteps in the hallway, wondering if Marcus would actually come back.
He wouldn't blame Marcus if he didn't. Not after what Ray had done.
Ryan had started calling his other personality "Ray"—a shortened version of his own name that felt separate enough to acknowledge the difference between them, but close enough to accept they were still somehow the same person.
And Ray had wrapped his hand around Marcus's throat and squeezed.
The memory made Ryan's stomach turn, he could still feel it, the ghost sensation of Marcus's pulse beneath his palm, the way Marcus had gasped for air, the fear in his eyes when he'd looked up and seen someone else looking back at him.
