*Morgan*

It seems like Lorenzo telling me his story brought all those terrible memories to the forefront of his mind. He is staring at me with a murderous rage and a knife in his hand.

“Lorenzo,” I say, putting my hands out in front of me in a non-threatening gesture. “Come on. I thought we were bonding here. I thought we’d gotten past the part of the night where you wanted to kill me.”

I let out a nervous ...