I was awoken by a tight grip around my draw line and a hard shake.
“It’s not time to die, Little Red,” Turner's lips greeted me with a smile.
He shoved me against the wall of his bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed.
I huddled against the wall, scared of him.
“You have no idea how it hurts to pretend as if I liked you and to be shamed and ridiculed by you repeatedly. When I just want to hurt you,” he complained.
