“You said you’d protect me,” I cry, grasping his forearms. They’re as immoveable as steel. If I hoped my mention of last night might spark something sympathetic in him, then I’m sorely mistaken. His reply comes out harsh, forced through gritted teeth. “That’s exactly what I’m fucking doing!” That’s how I know that whatever is about to happen can’t be good. It’ll be pain and humiliation and a long night spent licking yet another wound.
