"I will never leave you; I can give you everything they didn't. You're all mine." His gloved hand gripped the lead pipe as he brought it down on the orderlies' skull, the sickening crunch sounding like music to his ears. A pool of blood quickly formed, chunks of brain matter mixing with the thick red liquid. The masked man rarely felt a rage like this, but they had finally stepped over the line. They beat him, mocked him, humiliated him. Treated him like a lowly dog, viewed him as less than dirt. He had to suffer through it all, his ability to speak being held captive by his master until he was freed. He suffered in silence, not even able to hide behind his frowny faced mask, his only true respite gone and in some filing cabinet as 'evidence'. But then she showed up. She was his psychologist; he was under her care. She stepped in, protecting him from the abuse he endured, stopping others from kicking him when he was down. And he knew just how he was going to repay her kindness.

People say love is love. And they are right. People say that the love between a man and his car is something special. And they are right. People say that love is deadly. And admittedly, I didn't believe them. Until I met him. JOIN BLAZE ON HIS JOURNEY OF LOVE, HEARTBREAK AND NEW LIFE xoxox