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My gaze narrows. “And you’re enjoying it, which confuses you…”

His face snaps in my direction, and he scowls. “No… I don’t…” His throat bobs. “I don’t know…”

“You do, though,” I state firmly. “Youknow, Dash.”

He keeps shaking his head. “It’s this place… This place and the fucking people in it.”

His lips are shivering, and I can see goosebumps all over his wet skin.

Sighing, I reach over and turn off his water. “Dash, let me tell you a story.”

I hand him a towel, and he pauses before taking it. “Is it true?”

My lips twitch and his do the same as he dries off.

“I lost my virginity when I was fifteen to a man named Callum… Callum Kade. He was a business associate of my father’s. Much older than me, obviously. Quiet, gorgeous,married… a real emotional terrorist. Anyway, he was actually at my house the day I came out to my parents. It was a whole thing… My first gayscene, if you will.”

Dash chuckles, and I grin. But the amusement slips away when I add, “My father beat the fucking shit out of me when I told him I was gay. I was so covered in bruises and welts, I couldn’t go to school for a week.”

Dash’s eyes go wide. He looks horrified as he gasps, “That’s fucked. I’m sorry, Ren.”

I shrug, swallowing down the misery of this story, and the shining image of my loving parents.

May they fucking rest.

“Didn’t much matter, I guess. About school…” I go on. “A few weeks later, they pulled me out for good, and I was homeschooled for the last two years of high school. My parents really thought keeping me away from other kids, or otherboys, would somehow delay the gay.”

I pause to scoff. “But the thing is, it wasn’t the boys at school they needed to worry about. Because the same man who sat in my living room with my parents that day, watching them berate me for coming out, listening while my father beat me for telling them my truth… He came into my house, into mybedrooma few days later, and took my virginity. He fed me all these lines, about how brave I was, and howspecialandsweetandblah blah blah…”

My words fade into a tired growl. “Whatever, he fucked me. He fucked me again and again, on repeat, formonthsat a time, until he was done. And then he just dipped out. Basically, he preyed on my vulnerability to get what he wanted, and yea, at the time, I fuckinglovedit. But I also didn’t know any better. It was like he dropped a bomb on me and ran. I never truly recovered from that hit…”

My gaze is stuck on my wrists for a moment, staring intently at the scars and black ink.

Dash shakes his head. “Why are you telling me this?”

My eyes lift to his. “Because I think you should know that pain usually leads toclarity. Obviously, I’m the last person who should give anyone advice. I’m not exactlyemotionally stable. But if there’s one thing Iknow, it’s that who you are is always going to bewho you are… No matter what happens, where you start out or where you end up. You’reyou, Dash. And sometimes chaotic beginnings can lead to a beautiful end.”

He bites his lip, lashes fluttering at my face. I can tell he’s piecing it all together, taking my words and my experience, laying them down over his own situation.

I’m not sure if what he’s struggling with is thinking he might be gay, or bi… Or if he’s just realizing that sexuality can be fluid, and enjoying something new doesn’t have to be scary. But I’ve seen it enough times in my life to know that the circumstance is only that.

Prison doesn’t turn you gay.Nothing does.

Your sexuality is a part of you that’s always been there, something you discover and develop over time. I hope he’s starting to see that.

Dash takes in a breath, letting it out slowly before he squints at me. “You’re sorta wise, Warren. Did you know that?”

My head falls back in a laugh. “Story of my life, boo. My hotness gets in the way of people realizing how smart I am.”

He grins, running his fingers through his short hair. “So what happened to this Callum Kade guy, anyway?”

“Oh, I killed him.”

He gawks at me, and I wink.

“I can’t with you…” he mutters while I chuckle. “Now, if only you could point some of that Confucius-style shit at yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I frown.