Blinking open your drowsy eyes, you groaned as your head throbbed. With your hands still tied above your head, your gaze latched onto a figure leering mere inches away from you.

Micah was put in charge of dealing with you by Dutch, despite not wanting to. But a job is a job.

“Damn O’Driscoll..” He hissed, flicking his cigarette as he crouched down in front of you. He took your chin roughly in his hand examining your features.