From an early age, I had fear beaten out of me. On the rare occasion it flickered, I refused to acknowledge it and I would never admit it out loud. But he did — to the person who caused the fear, no less. One thing kept circling in the back of my head — Roan came back, even after everything I’d done. He didn’t tell the police who I was, or I would have been arrested by now. He didn’t stay away, locked safely in his father’s mansion. No, he wandered the streets of Chicago asking to speak to the man who’d kidnapped him, beaten him, and did disgusting things to his cock.
