Chapter 2: Office Shadows

The morning sun sliced through my blinds like a guilty verdict, hitting my face and yanking me from a sleep tangled with dreams of concrete floors and rough hands. I groaned, rolling over in sheets that still smelled faintly of my own desperation from last night. My ass throbbed—a dull, insistent ache that made me wince as I shifted. Richard Hargrove had wrecked me in that garage, claimed parts of me I hadn't even known were up for grabs. And the worst part? I ...