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Walking into the fire willingly

last update Last Updated: 2025-03-25 02:51:38

MIGUEL

An angel? No, this wasn’t an angel.

Though he seemed like one when he swooped in with fury and grace, angels don't kill people and batter bodies, like the buzz-cut guy by the gate, who was left bleeding in the dirt.

I snaked my hand to his chest as he lowered me into the passenger seat, his intoxicating scent of leather, smoke, and something sharp, hitting me like a ton of bricks.

My fingers lingered, tracing the hard lines beneath his shirt. I caught my breath as the warmth of him seeped through. He eased me down gently and stared at me for some seconds.

“Where are we going?” I asked quietly, my voice rough, barely above a whisper.

“Home.” Salvatore’s hand brushed my cheek tenderly, his thumb grazing the bruise. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

I nodded slowly. My throat was tight and his touch sent spasms through me. He buckled the seatbelt and reached to close the door, but I grabbed his arm quickly.

“Wait, Salvatore. My knife is inside, on the floor.”

He paused for a mo
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  • My Stepfather's Deadly Obsession   Walking into the fire willingly

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  • My Stepfather's Deadly Obsession   I will protect you

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  • My Stepfather's Deadly Obsession   A collateral

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  • My Stepfather's Deadly Obsession   They will kill us

    MIGUEL“Thank you for coming,” I smiled brightly at the customer until I was scared that my cheeks would fall off. He slipped me a tip, a crumpled five, and I hastily pocketed it and gave my appreciation. “Have a good one.” I turned back to the counter. My hands were still shaky from the mess earlier. What the fuck did I do? What did I allow to happen?I had made a terrible mistake, a mistake that was going to cause a lot of trouble. I was confused and tangled up inside. I wanted to be mad, to hate him for barging in and kissing me like that in the back room, but I couldn’t. The more I tried, the more I felt it; this pull, this draw to him I couldn’t shake. I could still feel his lips on mine, and his hand moving slowly. It burned in my memory. My stepfather, of all people, and I’d let it happen. I’d moaned, melted into him, and I didn’t know what that made me. A freak? A pervert?Maybe both.The diner buzzed around me, plates clinking, and voices humming, but they all seemed to f

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