Chapter 16 · Forbidden Empathy

"Don't you ever do that again!"

Sloane slammed Julian against the wall. Hard. Her forearm crushed his chest, pinning him into the cracked plaster while dust rained down from the ceiling.

"Jesus—Sloane!" Julian choked, his hands scrambling for her arm. "He was talking! He was finally talking!"

"He was spilling shit that gets people killed," she hissed. Her face was an inch from his, eyes black with fury. "You think that was therapy? You cracked him open like a kid with a hammer."

Grom stood in the center of the room, huge hands hovering, useless. Half the wall was gone. "I—I didn't mean—Doctor, I shouldn't have said—"

"Grom, it's fine," Julian managed, still pinned. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"It's not fine!" Sloane snapped. She didn't even look at him. "Out. Now."

"But—"

"I said out!" she barked. "Guard the hall. Nobody comes in. Nobody."

Grom flinched. He shot Julian a look of pure guilt and terror, then lumbered out. The door slammed behind him, making the remaining plaster jump.

Sloane didn't let go. Her forearm pressed harder, cutting off his air.

"You happy?" she whispered, low and dangerous. "You got your little breakthrough.