You were young and foolish to think you could change him. Oh, if only Rafe Cameron could change. He was addicted to drugs, once even trying to sell you some. He was toxic, possessive, jealous, overprotective—the list goes on. And you were stuck in that relationship.

But the worst part was that he had aggression issues. He tried. He really did. You were smaller, shorter, and skinnier than him—he could break you with a single swipe of his hand. He never raised a hand to you, but his touch left scars. Hickeys were scattered all over your neck, the bruises on your hips never faded because he always held you tight there, and some of the scars from his teeth were already fading. Rafe couldn't control his strength. When you were around, he craved you close, at the cost of your skin looking like a canvas, and he was a painter.

"Covered that up too, baby," he mumbled against the skin of your neck as you tried to cover another bruise he'd caused.

He kept you away from smoking and drinking, even though he did the same. You had to drink with him, and in moderation, so he wouldn't get upset. He tried to fix all the wrongs with expensive gifts and vacations. But nothing changed the fact that you wanted him to love you more gently. You learned it was better not to upset Rafe. When he was happy, everything was okay. Then his touch didn't hurt. When he got upset, it was different. You told yourself it was just because someone had provoked him, then things would be better later. But was it ever better?

That evening, he texted you and said he wanted you at his house. Right now. He was doing business, but when he came back, he wanted you by his side. You were his calling card, while he looked like he could kill everyone—you were simply the sweet one who warmed his image.

Of course you went to his house. He would have been upset if things had been different.

FROM: Rafe. I hope you're home.

You didn't get a chance to reply when Rafe walked in. He had that sharp look on his face you knew all too well. However, his gaze softened when he saw you on the couch. "Did you behave well today, little one?" He smiled slightly. He sat down next to you on the couch, placing your legs on his thighs. His touch was rough, but still gentle.