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If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my twenty-three years alive, it’s this: Women in pain give men confidence. It stirs up something instinctive, deep inside them, that makes them believe they have the upper hand, even if every logical piece of evidence screams at them they do not. Confidence makes men sloppy. And sloppy men are easy targets.
“I’d tell you not to put yourself in danger,” he says, “but I know you better than that.” I bite my lip, suddenly self-conscious. “You’re worried?” He scoffs. “Never. You are the danger. Any person who doesn’t see that deserves what’s coming to them.”