Chapter 42
Showtime Dalton
Standing in a pair of shorts, shirt off and draped over my shoulder to cover the tattoo on my chest, I stare at the camera. Behind me is a wooded area, scarred and burnt by the fire from weeks ago. The day I tripped and sprayed my whole crew.
There’s no hat on my head. No sunglasses on my face.
Just lethal glaring. My chest rising and falling with every even breath I take.
I look pissed.
Look ready to murder someone.
Look ready to hunt down an arsonist who touched Bryn.
I don’t say a single word. The silence is threat enough.
PeepersInPages:
Damn. He can put his boots under my bed anytime.
KarlaEBooksta:
Touch her and die vibes
PaigersTurnsPages:
Is it wrong the angry look is hotter than his other looks?
FictionalFeline:
I'm losing my mind very disrespectfully
FiretoFire831Station9:
The sirens wailing all the way, music to my ears.