“But now he was flailing about on the floor, hitting out at thin air, begging for the Padre to stop. I moved across the floor and grabbed his arms. “The Padre’s not here,” I said. He shot away from me. I followed him, knowing I needed to make him realize what he was seeing wasn’t real. He pushed himself into a corner, his terrified face breaking my heart. I didn’t know why the man affected me like this. I didn’t give a merda about anything, other than what I wanted. But right now, all I cared ab...out was making him feel better, my needs no longer important. I approached him slowly, talking to him in a reassuring voice. He stared at me, appearing confused, maybe finally seeing me. As I neared him, he covered his head with his arms. I pulled them down and wrapped my arms around him, wanting to give him comfort. To my relief he didn’t push me away, though his body was stiff, fear still coursing through him. “Please don’t fuck me,” he said. His voice sounded young; reminding me he was only twenty-three—six years younger than me.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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