Mike paced back and forth, irritation carved plainly across his face. When he turned to Jasmine — sitting on the only invaluable chair the bank hadn't collected — his face reddened with fury.
He marched toward her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and forced her to her feet.
"Jasmine!" he roared, snapping her out of whatever thoughts she was drowning in. "Snap out of it!"
Jasmine's eyes shook as she searched his angry face.
"Are you not hearing me?!" he growled, his grip tightening. "This is not the time to sulk like this! If we don't do something, losing this place will be the least of our worries!"
Grinding his teeth, Mike hissed, "We sacrificed a lot just to get here, Jasmine. I'm not losing any of it because of that damn Lawrence. And I swear to God, I will not go back to that jail because of him."
"…" Jasmine stared at him, searching his expression for even the tiniest hint that he was drowning in regret or guilt the same way she was. But Mike showed nothing.
