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Her mess

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Jamal swerved up the drive of the Orlandos' residence, hitting the brakes furiously and turning off the ignition. With a loud slam, he alighted the car, hurrying to the front porch. He rang the doorbell like crazy, almost kicking open the door when the response took later than expected.

His clenched fist pounced repeatedly on the door, wishing nothing but to break down the damn thing.

*fuck it, Zoey. Where the hell are you?!* He sent her a mind-link, still hitting on the door.

"Son?"

He stilled and slowly turned around. A low hiss smoothly slid out of his lips. It was the most unpleasant surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Luther continued, joining him on the front porch and glancing at the door.

"It's none of your fucking business." Jamal snorted, retrieving his fists into his pockets and putting a good distance between them.

Ever since their last breakfast together, they have never had to share a space. Jamal had intentionally avoided all the areas of the house
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