Scout’s POV
"Do you actually think I won't kill you?"
Nixon spoke the words like a promise. He stood by the bars of my cage, his boots heavy against the cold floor. The sound was slow and steady, intended to make me sweat. When he finally turned the key, the metal groaned. It was a harsh, screaming sound that told me to run, but I stayed where I was. I sat on the thin mattress and watched him walk into my small space.
The air in the cell changed the moment he stepped inside. It felt like he took up all the oxygen. Every time I inhaled, I felt like I was stealing air from his lungs. His eyes were like a winter storm, sharp and freezing, looking right through me. He was searching for a reason to snap.
I tilted my chin up. "I know you won't."
He let out a short, dry laugh. It sounded lik
