Skyla's mind was being fried with neural activity. He had immobilised her and his words were nothing but wooden splinters that were piercing her heart. All she wanted was to have her father's company back and be done with this fiend.
Her scalp burnt as he kept yanking her hair and with one final tug which left a lock of those fiery tresses in his callous hand, Doran let her go and shifted back.
Her bag had fallen on the car floor. Her hair were dishevelled and the pin hung loosely in them. Half of her body had been bruised. The tears of pain and humiliation singed the back of her eyes as she hid her face in her burnt hand.
"Get out," he derisively commanded, not caring in the slightest about her condition. She couldn't believe her ears after what he had done he was going to throw her in the middle of nowhere.
