Brandon
"Get up," He opens the door to my room with so much aggression that I hate him even more. I have been in this place for a couple of days and it feels like the walls are caving in on me. I came here on my own, no one forced me to be here--yeah, my father might have pressured me a lot but at the same time, I came here on my own.
"What?" I roll my eyes as I sit on the bed with the frustration of everything that is happening.
I miss Luther.
I left him to protect him, but I wish I was waking up next to him instead of this fucking place. My heart aches for him, and I can't help but wonder if he's safe if he's okay. But I push those thoughts aside, knowing that right now, my focus needs to be on getting myself out of this mess.
"You're needed downstairs," he snarls, his voice dripping with disdain. I glare at him, not bothering to hide the bitterness that laces my tone.
