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“You’re fucking crazy, you know that.” Patrick snarls, waving the gun at the other man’s body. “You bang on my window like some lunatic, and you’re surprised I pulled a gun?”
The man freezes, shoulders hunching in on himself. Like it might make him disappear. Patrick steps forward, his bare feet hitting the pavement. He wants to keep going, berating the man in front of him. It gives him a rush, a twisted sense of control, something he hasn’t had in a long time.