DNA.

The wooden door flings open, smashing into the wall behind it and I jolt awake, backing myself as far into the wall as I can go. My eyes narrow at the man stood in the doorway and I swallow the lump in my throat, determined to show him I'm not scared. I really am, I'm petrified. I've learned the hard way to never show fear to men like Trevor and DC Jones. They thrive off it, it's what fuels them to carry out their evil actions. Others need oxygen to survive, not these kind of people. They live off fear, it's what keeps their heart beating.

"I was having a rather pleasant dream, do you mind shutting the door on your way out so I can go back to it?" The sarcasm drips from my every word.

Jones' dark eyes narrow and pierce straight through me, seeing every scar . . . every insecurity. His lips twitch in amusement, knowing he's making me uncomfortable. Asshole.