Chapter 8

The meeting finishes just as the sun is beginning to rise. I yawn behind my hand, stretching my arms above my head. My eyes are drawn in and red from lack of sleep but thankfully, me and Papa are walking out of here alive. "Do you want some breakfast? My treat," Papa mutters, pulling open the door of his black SUV. I nod my head slowly, scrolling through my messages. My muscles are aching and I can feel the gun digging into my sides from hours of being pressed against my skin. I like the feel...