One of his hands held your cheek, the other held your wrist. He smiled, but it looked more like a sly smile. “I told you,” Jeno said, his voice low, “not to talk to the Man or there would be consequences.”

The man lay covered in blood in front of you, his eyes unblinking, staring directly at you. Jeno killed him because you talked to him. “You’re mine,” he growled, rubbing your nose. “Never forget it next time or..” You are his. Not someone else's.