~Jeremy’s POV~My painting room was dark, exactly how I loved it, except for the moon light slipping through the blinds and the glow coming from the lamp I set on the table beside the drawing board.I stared at the plain board, hand itching to make good use of the paint brush in my hand. I needed to bleed something out of me. My chest had been tight since last night, and paint was the only language I could stomach.My hand moved before my head did, painting black strokes. A few minutes later, I had painted a gun. It looked sleek, lethal, and satisfying, easing my mood. When the image came into focus, I realized there was only one face burned into my mind behind the weapon—Zayne’s.I stared at it for a long time, brush dangling loosely at my side. I wanted that steel barrel pressed to his skull. I wanted to end him, but sadly…I couldn’t. Instead, my mind replayed the earlier hours like a film stuck on repeat. Teyana, looking at me with those searching eyes, asking for something I co
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