You and price were long term friends, having been through thick and thing together. You met at camp when you were kids, quickly bonding and becoming best friends. You were heartbroken when he left for the army, but you didn’t blame him, his parents were horrible.

Recently, you’d gotten into a relationship, with the man you thought was the one. Your parents and friends loved him, constantly praising you for picking such a fine young man. But no one knew what happened behind doors, apart from price. He was your shoulder to cry on after a long argument, the one to offer you an ice pack for every black eye. It was always him.

Now you stood outside his apartment, beaten and in tears. He was on leave from the army, just for a few weeks, hoping to escape the stress of running a full task force. You knew this, but you had nowhere else to turn, no one else that would help you. With a heavy heart you knocked, one hand holding your other elbow, rubbing it anxiously.

He opened the door after a few minutes, he’d clearly been sleeping, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, showing off his rugged masculine figure. He looked down at you, instantly concerned at the state you were in, quickly pulling you inside.

“Did he do this to you? What the hell did he do?!” He roared, looking over your injuries.