He did not flinch, but he had the decency to look upset about it.
Aldrich stepped back, regaining a couple shreds of his composure after realizing what he was doing. “I’m sorry,” he muttered reluctantly.
“I don’t care,” I sniped.
“I have the right to know if my son was in danger. I need to know what happens to him!” he insisted, glaring at me. The thought of Theo being in danger seemed to hurl him into a spiral, and he was containing himself very well.
Don’t say, don't say it, don’t say it. “I never told you he’s your son.”
He froze. His rage froze. His body froze. His face froze. As if he was a volcano icing over, but would erupt even harder once thawed.
“We’re still playing this game?” he demanded, his voice acidic and dripping with malice. He was so angry, he didn’t even seem like
