“I was gonna wash this. But, you know what? I think I’ll leave it. It’s a nice reminder. A symbol of my ownership.” I swallow, stomach knotting. His ownership… of me. No matter what I do, I’m his. His to mess with, his to torture, his to hurt. I made peace with that long ago, resigned myself to the fact that while I’m in this town, there’s no getting away from Asher Brooks.
