*

fists and elbows. Sweat poured down his face and body but Shane didn’t even pause to wipe it off. He was still in his dress pants, having moved directly into his gym immediately he’d gotten

moving like a predator whose deadly eyes were fixed on its prey. He’d only taken the time to wrap his hands, opting not to waste his time by fixing

r all these years, Shane had no idea. It actually felt like he was back to that night all those years ago. Shane felt every physical pain he’d felt at the hands of Chris that fateful night. Shane had been a mere

ouldn’t feel a thing. Looking back, Chris’ words hadn’t been any different from words kids their age then usually used when insulting other kids. Being called filthy, worthless, and scum who didn’t deserve to live was

in the room alone. There had been no sign of Chris. Shane had managed to drag himself downstairs to his mother. And the look on h

on his mother’s face, she’d quickly cleaned him up as best as she could, given him some painkillers to swallow, and then packed up their stuff. Surprisingly, the hurt in his m

ox of dominos that Chris had given to him as a gift and left it at Chris’ door. Then he’d left with his mother and never looked back. He’d never shed a tear…for anything, since that night. But he’d

he was confused as to what it was and where it had come from. The

uc

g. His muscles screamed in protest as he slowly removed his pants, the tiniest of movements triggering another round of stabbing pain. When he finally managed to step into the steaming shower, he braced his

of one person. He had to make sure he never came face to face with Chris ever again. Unfortunately, they had a meeting at his house in four weeks. He couldn’t possibly tell Damon not to bri

oar rumbled all through his body, so