(Step daddy's anger will be completed at the end of this book as an extra. I want to build their character so well and add tensions to it so you can enjoy)
If I had known defending this old man I called my step father would land me in a cell… I’d have driven off because why the hell am I stuck in this cell…
Daemon sat on the cold metal bench, back pressed against the concrete wall, arms crossed tight over his chest.
The fluorescent light above flickered every few seconds, casting the small holding cell in a sickly yellow glow.
The air smelled of industrial cleaner, stale sweat, and something metallic that made his stomach turn.
Across from him, on the opposite bench, Migos sat with his elbows on his knees, head slightly bowed, the same calm expression he always wore even when the
