“What the actual fuck.” He was breathless, his eyes tearing between Serge and me.
I could tell he was about to pounce.
I tried to step toward him, desperate to reassure him that it wasn’t what it looked like, that none of this was real or mattered. But the heavy steel cuffs around my hands pulled me back, tugging painfully around my wrists with a burning sensation that reminded me of the bittersweet contrasts I was currently limping through.
How the f**k did I even end up in this situation?
Suddenly consumed by a wave of hot anger, I turned to Serge. He was awfully quiet, standing there without a care in the world, looking exactly as if he knew this would happen all along.
“Uncuff me,” I spat, failing to recognize my own voice because of the raw venom laced through it. I was ready to
