Nixon’s POV
"What the f**k are you doing?"
The words cut through the heavy quiet of the bedroom like a blade. Scout jerked hard. Her shoulders slammed back against my dresser as she spun around. Her wide eyes locked onto mine.
Between her trembling fingers, the silver frame slipped.
It hit the floorboards with a sharp, explosive crack. Glass burst across the rug. Tiny, jagged shards flew sideways, catching the grey morning light filtering through the blinds.
"Oh my goddess," she whispered. Her hands flew straight to her mouth, locking her lips tight. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her chest heaving under her thin shirt. "I am so sorry. I did not hear the door."
I did not care what she heard. My lungs burned. A hot, toxic weight flooded my throat, choking out the leftover fog of my sl
