The confession of love from his father hit him hard. It was the only love he knew. For a long time he thought, that’s what it was suppose to be like. Not being able to say no. The hitting. The belts. The hair pulling. That was just his fault and that’s the way it was suppose to be. Or maybe he simply resigned to it. Sometimes it was perfect, except the whole father thing.<br/>Sometimes there were laughs and gifts and tenderness, but he learned that it wasn’t suppose to be family. It wasn’t right. Shame knotted his stomach.<br/><br/>Alex added to what Andreas said, “If ... if you loved me, you ... you wouldn’t have touched me like that...” he shuddered and felt queasy. Richard wouldn’t have made him like it.<br/><br/>He didn’t object to being moved in front of Andreas, though he was painfully aware of how naked he was. Alex didn’t want Andreas to look, it was silly as there were more pressing matters to deal with. Alex couldn’t help the shiver that rolled down his spine as the assassin whispered against his ear, nor the twitch of his sex from the heat that came with it. How embarrassing. He squeezed his eyes closed, then squeezed the trigger.<br/><br/>No noise followed this time and Alex didn’t want to look for this time it sounded squishier than when the bullet ripped into the wall. He started shaking again. What had he done?