MICHAEL'S POV

I didn’t slam the door.

Not because I didn’t want to, but because slamming it would mean she won.

It would mean she got to me.

And she did. Damn it, she did.

I tore through the hallway like a storm bottled in flesh, my steps fast, furious, fists clenched so tight I could feel the crescent bite of my nails digging into my skin. My pulse was erratic. My breathing shallow. Her voice rang in my skull like a ricochet I couldn’t silence.

“You don’t own me.”

The ...