027

Rafe

Valeria coughs as my fingers tighten against her throat. Her own fingers desperately clawed at my hands, hoping that I would free her.

“Are you growing it?” I demand, releasing my grip, just enough to allow her to speak.

“No.” She croaks.

“Then how did you get your hands on some? Is it Brant or the other fucking idiot that's growing it?”

“I found it!” she mutters hoarsely

“Bullshit!”