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it hadn’t taken much to convince him to meet the man who called himself JD in the alley after the café had closed.

Ro had been sore as hell after, JD not bothering with any more prep than donning a lubed rubber. He hadn’t slowed down when Ro had asked him to, either, instead seeming turned on by the way it had hurt Ro to have that thick cock shoved into him. Ro had had bruises, too, on his hips and ass. JD had pounded into him and held him in place for it. Once JD had come, he’d reached around and jerked Ro off with painfully coarse strokes. Ro didn’t even know how he’d managed to come from that, but he had.

Afterwards, he’d felt like a total slut. Even the hook-ups he’d had before hadn’t been so seedy. He’d at least known the guy, another waiter who’d since moved on. But JD wasn’t really named JD, Ro would bet on it, and he had a way about him that made Ro feel like the whore he denied being.

The next time JD had come through, Ro had refused to wait on his table. He’d had Twila take that whole section. JD had grabbed him after work, when Ro had been walking out back to his car. In retrospect, Ro should have known it would happen. JD wasn’t the type to be put off, and as JD had shoved him to his knees in the alley, one big, rough hand over his mouth, Ro had known it was going to be bad. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Someone was touching him, someone wanted him bad enough to not let him walk away. Ro had arched and had taken JD in eagerly then. JD hadn’t been quite so forgiving of the snub from inside the café, slapping Ro’s ass and thighs until they’d stung and he’d cried out against JD’s hand. JD hadn’t got him off then, either.

“Next time, you be good or it’ll be worse,” JD had told him. Ro had been so sore he hadn’t been able to get up for a while. Only the sound of someone’s footsteps had spurred him to move. His pants were torn and his knees were scraped and bloody. Ro didn’t care. He felt used and wanted, and he’d have the proof of that on his body for a while.

Somewhere in his mind, Ro knew it was wrong, that his thinking was fucked up. Sometimes he’d even tell himself he needed help, that he was suffocating under depression and God only knew what else. But then he’d give in to the lethargy and just not do anything. He didn’t have the energy or the money to get help anyway. Texas’ mental health services sucked at the best of times.

His father seemed to sink deeper into a depression of his own. Ro wondered if they were feeding off each other’s moods. Sev came over and Ro would put on a happy show for him, smiling and laughing and all of that, but inside he felt off, numb. Even so, he didn’t want Sev feeling guilty because of it.

And Conner didn’t come around. That hurt so much, more than it should have considering Conner had only popped in on him once—that he knew of. Ro sat in his bedroom one evening, after another rough fuck by JD. He took out the picture of Conner, and he felt the last bit of hope he had in him drain away.

The blond man in the picture would never be his. No one decent would, once they found out how he let JD treat him in the alley. This last time, JD had used more than his dick, pushing fingers in beside it, hurting Ro badly enough that he knew he was going to have to put a stop to the twisted thing they had going on. He was too scared to go to the doctor, couldn’t imagine telling the old man what the problem was.

Ro would just have to keep an eye on it and make sure if he didn’t stop bleeding that he got to the hospital no matter how embarrassing that would be. In fact, maybe he could drive into Dallas and go to a clinic there. Surely there was some place he could go and not have his family find out.

That sounded like the best plan. Ro was so sore he could hardly walk, but he gathered up his keys and quietly left the house. He got in his car and backed out of the drive. He ached, but it was the shame that truly hurt him. How had he let himself come to this point? Even as lonely as he’d been, he should have known he deserved better than to be fucked the way JD wanted. There were people who liked rough games, people who liked BDSM, but JD wasn’t one of those people, and neither was Ro. JD wanted to fuck him, to hurt him, and he didn’t want Ro to enjoy it at all. Ro didn’t, and he wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.

From here on out, he’d get his head on straight. He was worth more than what he was allowing himself to be. Ro could see now that he’d been depressed on some level for a long time. It’d kept him locked down, scared to branch out and try anything. He’d used his family as an excuse and, while he liked McKinton well enough, staying there now would be detrimental to his health. And hell, maybe if he left, his dad would leave. Ro was afraid his father was going to die from a broken heart at the rate he was going.

Ro was making plans, finally feeling like he was breaking through the ice that’d kept him underwater. Maybe he’d had to hit rock bottom to get better. He kind of thought he had. Surely he couldn’t get any lower than letting JD do the things to him that

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