Knox

I sit behind my desk, rage cursing through my veins.

Gina stands there in the doorway. Before I can even form a word, she slams the door shut so hard that the sound echoes through my chest like a gunshot. 

The air in the room turns thick instantly, charged with the kind of tension that always seems to follow her.

She marches straight toward the table where I keep my papers spread out, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that matches the frustration building inside me. 

I watch her approach, noting the way her shoulders are set back in defiance, the slight flush on her cheeks...