Rowan. Age 25.
The coast of Los Angeles. Wearhouse hideout.
"You will let me in!" someone held me back but I punched him in the face as I pushed him away. "I don't care! You can't stop me!"
“Rowan! Nice of you to join us! Come! Come in!” I glared at the male in front of me. He spoke with sarcasm yet I didn't care. I wanted them to get one thing straight and that doesn't involve any formalities.
Despite me barging into the room without caring about the men standing watch outside and rudely yelling at them earlier, the people in front of me looked at me like I bored them to death.
“I want out! Do you hear me!? My brother and I are no longer your minions!” my words were clear as day but the five people across from me yawned. “And what makes you think you can leave? We told you, once yo
