Jessica
Manson carried me back to the garage, thrown over his shoulder. My head bobbed up and down, giving me glimpses of the other men’s faces. Lucas’s expression was fierce, so tense I wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks started shooting out of his eyeballs. Jason’s was tight and controlled, like he was about to attend the funeral of someone he hated. Vincent was smiling, the eerie expression punctuated by occasional shakes of his head.
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