Page 40 of Fitch

I stared at him.

And for a fleeting moment, I was mad. Really fucking mad that he would say that, that he believed that.

But then it hit me . . .

I was only so mad because he was right, and I knew it. Deep down, I knew it was true because only the truth could hurt like that.

Dom wanted me to play a part, a role he created just for me. A few hours once a week, where he could cater to his need to be a ‘daddy’ figure while he paid me to be his boy.

That was the brutal truth.

A truth I didn’t want to hear.

Ky swallowed hard and watched the traffic zoom by for a moment. “Let yourself enjoy it,” he said, voice detached. “Revel in the attention, the adoration. Let him shower you with affection and enjoy the sex. But don’t get attached, Fitch. It’s not real.”

Well, fuck.

Of course he was right.

“Yeah,” I said weakly. “It’s not real. I know.”

The way Dom had held my hand, the soft way he told me we’d be okay.

That wasn’t real.

My phone buzzed with a message.

Time is slow for me too, yet I don’t seem to have enough hours in the day. One more day, Fitch. Are you being a good boy?

I smiled at my phone.

And that was the crux of it all, because that feeling—the rush, the buzz, the happiness—that was fucking real.

I typed out a quick reply.

That depends

What kind of punishment will you give me if I say no?

Will you fuck me for hours and hours?

Because if that’s my punishment, then I’ve been a very bad boy

I laughed as I hit send the last time and looked up to see Ky watching me. “It’s too late, isn’t it?”

“It’s too late for a lot of things, Ky,” I said with a grin. “But fuck it. You know what? We have very few things in our lives that bring us actual joy, so why not let myself enjoy this while I can?”

He thought about that for a second, and in the end, he shrugged. “Go for it. But the scar it’ll leave behind won’t be pretty.”

Goddammit.

I hated that he was so fucked up. I hated that we all were, but Ky especially. Whatever the hell he’d been through had been rough. Not like Benji. That was different. Benji’s past was messed up, yes. Incredibly so.

But Ky’s past felt different. Not that we knew, not that he’d ever divulged the details. But he got a faraway look in his eyes that kinda scared me. He had a darkness to him that felt uneasy.

He never spoke about shit, and I tried once to get him to open up. He withdrew from me and Benji completely and could barely get out of bed for two days, so I never dared push him for details again.

The same way Ky never asked about Benji’s past, or mine. Our reasons for finding ourselves as rent boys were our own.

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