CHAPTER 14-01As Jackson kicked back in the vintage chair that was squished behind the large, antique desk of his office, the tip of his tongue carried with it the acrimonious burn of whisky, and torment walked the halls of his mind. Like uninvited guests, the ghosts of his past had freed themselves of their cage, haunting away at his sanity until he found himself questioning his every single thought.
Darkness clutched him to its breast like a newborn, the four walls becoming a prison of shadows and despair. It carried with it anguish, that darkness; it carried with it a s******c pleasure.
"So the real question is," he murmured to himself, lids half closing as he gazed down at his phone. It was perched on the edge of his desk, dangerously so, and the incessant red light that kept flickeri
