“Come on, get it together. It’s only pain, for Christ’s sake.”
“Goddamn you! I can’t,” Adam protested, red faced and shaking.
Right now, this second, he had never hated anyone quite as much as he hated the man in front of him—the visual representation of everything standing between him and freedom. A life though not ideal was known to him, comfortable and familiar. Safe.
Ian wasn’t listening. “You can, and you will.”
“It f*****g hurts!”
“It’s supposed to hurt.” Ian’s tone reminded Adam of a weary parent struggling to curb their temper around a stubborn child and failing.
Adam rolled his eyes, his minor rebellion, and forced his spine straight. Every fiber of his being screaming for reprieve. It was a herculean struggle as he willed away the sting of tears. Tears he didn’t want Ian to
