Flashbacks of my past, moments I'd meticulously buried, clawed their way back to the surface. I was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, barely aware of my surroundings, until I felt the cold, crisp linen of a bed beneath me.
I only registered the grunting sound he made as he left the room. It was probably a good thing he walked away when he did. I was so consumed by rage and disgust that I might have tried to kill him, even if it meant my own death. The thought of how easily he had forced me to take a life, how little it seemed to affect him, turned my stomach.
He was a monster, a cold-blooded bastard who probably saw no difference between a human life and a cheap toy. I imagined him celebrating the man’s death somewhere, or maybe not. He seemed like the kind of person who’d swal
