"I'm still fucking pissed at you, T. You had no right to keep me out of that room. Out of danger. I can fucking take care of myself. I'm not that stupid teenager anymore," I said. Arms crossed over my chest, breath sawing in and out of my chest like I'd run a freaking marathon. I could feel the heat rushing through my body.
"You're right. I shouldn't have told you to stay here." He shook his head, rubbed his hands over his bald, brown head. "I needed one of you alive." He looked back up at me, his eyes sharp and burning.
I swallowed back my rage. "We're not them, T. We can take care of ourselves. You aren't responsible for us."
He snorted, turned away. "That's a fucking joke. I'm head of security, Xan. It is my literal job to make sure nothing happens to any of you." He spun, drilled a finger in my direction. "I own that. And I don't take unnecessary risks. I do a damn fucking good job of it, too."