He said he wants me, but I don’t know what that means. The idea that I might have to pay for my father’s freedom with my body passes my mind for a moment before disappearing into vapor. The Beast of Boston could and likely does, have any woman he wants. Unless he’s got a super specific kink for heavyset introverts who love to read smut, I’m safe. The pause becomes heavy. I get the strange sense it's as if the Beast is loading a gun, before he’s about to make a fatal shot.
