The Bad Boy's Dirty Little Secret
Night yelped, his body jolting as his father tried to yank him forward, his grip unyielding and fierce.
“Enough of this nonsense,” Jonathan growled, eyes flashing as he tightened his hold. “You’re coming home with me.”
Night’s face twisted with pain and defiance, and he dug his heels into the floor, struggling against his father’s grip. Without thinking, I stepped forward, my heart pounding with anger and fear, my hands shaking as I reached out. “Let him go!” I shouted, my voice louder than I’d expected it to be.
Night’s father barely spared me a glance, his focus entirely on pulling his son away. I shot a look to my parents, pleading silently for them to understand, to help.
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