He stood on the porch, in the dark, cast only in silhouette under the moonlight, surrounded by his usual cigarette smoke.
"You know Ryan, I've got some good friends in this town, and they all love me. And they all love you, too. You know that right?"
"Yes."
"Look at me. A big ol' queer in this little ass town. And look what I've got..."
"What have you got?"
"I've got you..."
It was then that I knew he thought of me as a possession, a prize, a piece of flesh he could flaunt as his own, here in his small town.
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