His name is Beat, and I'm supposed to hate him. Bound, blindfolded and bruised, I'm tied up in his basement, waiting for the men who stripped me of my clothes and humanity to collect my debt to them. Me.

His name is Nate, and I should hate him, but I don't. I shouldn't know his real name, even worse, I shouldn't care. For me he is just a means to an end. The plan is simple: break free, pick up the pieces of my broken soul, kill the bastards and escape.

His name is Nathaniel Thomas Vela, and I have never seen his face, although I heard that it is beautiful. Beyond the rough and the beautiful The exterior hides a silent killer, a killer who believes that guns are for weaklings and kills people with his bare hands. His name doesn't matter, nor does his face, but what matters is my heart. And now, unfortunately, it belongs to him.