It was currently 11:30pm and I was sitting on the bed, holding a gun. I gripped the metal in my hands, balancing the weight on my fingertips.

Sinister should be home by now.

I had forced all of my guards as far away from my bedroom as possible. I didn't like having them attatched to me. It pissed me off.

It's been two weeks since I had seen Sinister. I wasn't mad at him, I knew he was going through hell and back. I knew he had lost so much more than I ...