Deirdre returned to her room in the mansion and sat on the edge of her bed in a dissociative trance.

Minutes crawled, possibly hours. She had no idea how long it took until she finally felt sleep catching up to her. She lay down.

Then, suddenly, her door swung open from a kick. Brendan lurched like a mad beast and pinned her wrists against the floor. The air chilled, but Deirdre could almost feel frost coming from the man’s eyes furiously scanning her face.

“Didn’t even lose a sleep over the sh*t you do, did you?” Brendan bellowed, his rage-powered might crushing her shoulders.

“That f*cking injury on Lena’s neck! Nothing could make it go away, and everyone saw it, McKinnon! They were talking about it behind her back and among themselves during her own party all because of the stupid sh*t you did! She wouldn’t even come home after the party! That’s how humiliated you made her feel, you black-hearted b*tch! Do you even know how to f*cking stop!?”

Pain flared like wildfire across h