I don’t have much of a moral compass, even my family senses it, and they treat me differently because of it. Most women don’t notice, they’re too busy looking at my tattoos or my muscles. Not that I pay them mind. But Chloe skittered away from me, her eyes darting here and there as she tried to map an escape. She senses what’s under my façade, and she’s running scared. She should be afraid. I’m a predator.
