He turned his back to her, allowing the spray of water to hit his face and chest, rinsing off the soap. She took the loofah and was about to wash his back when she noticed the welts from a whipping he’d gotten some time ago. Not feeling the loofah hit his back yet, Fear turned around raising an eyebrow. The expression on her face told him she was curious as to why he’d allowed himself to be beaten so brutally. She remembered seeing the welts that night in the garage when he’d given Constance a lashing. Although she did admire him for not holding himself above his law, she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to feel he’d deserve to be scarred for life.
Fear placed his hands flat on the tiled wall and hung his head, letting the water beat down on the top of his scalp and roll off of his
