Rushid felt a weight on his chest.
His first instinct was to grab whatever—or whoever—was pressing him down and put them on the floor. Fast. But something stilled him. This wasn't an enemy. This softness didn't belong to a man, or a stranger.
Rushid felt a weight on his chest.
His first instinct was to grab whatever—or whoever—was pressing him down and put them on the floor. Fast. But something stilled him. This wasn't an enemy. This softness didn't belong to a man, or a stranger.
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