Frost calmly takes his seat again, averting his cold, calculating gaze to my duffel bag. I’d be grateful for the break from his scary, intense eyes, but I’m too busy trying not to tremble in my seat or think about what he’s going to do to me next to count my blessings right now.

My heart palpitates like it’s on the verge of a seizure, screaming and competing with my distressed bladder for my undivided attention.

The sound of a zipper breaks through the ensuing silence and my shallow breathing. I watch with clenched fists as he pulls the zipper of my duffel bag all the way back, revealing all its contents.

Without a word, he starts going through my stuff, removing and briefly examining one item after another, as if he’s inspecting them.

What the fuck…?

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