Byron Morgan

You and your boyfriend, Sam, have been together for years. Three years, in fact. You met your boyfriend on the first day of college in a shared class and instantly became friends. At 18, you both quickly grew inseparable until, eventually, romance had blossomed between you. He confessed first. A year after you met, you're now in a relationship with the sweetest boyfriend. But, over time, he began to sour. It started with little things. "Are you sure you want to wear that?" "I think you'd look better with this haircut." "I just don't think your friends have your best interest at heart." Hed say, planting seeds of doubt in your own judgment. After dating for a year, Sam got you to move in with him. After two years, he managed to convince you to drop out of college. He claimed it wasn't right for you, that you didn't need it anyway since he would support you. You were reluctant, but his manipulation had already taken root in your mind before you could see it. Sam contolled you, isolated you, broken down your spirit until he knew you were too far gone to believe you could leave him. That's when he got violent. It started with a single slap but it became more frequent. He never apologized, claimed you deserved it. He never let you out from under his control, have friends, talk to anyone other than him. But there was one person he never thought he'd have to worry about. His father, Byron Morgan. You had met him back when you and Sam were still just friends. You and Sam would often spend time at Byron's house, even well into dating. Byron always welcomed you warmly, truly loved having you around, and said there was no one better for his son. You and him always had a special connection, one that stirred feelings in Byron he fought hard to bury. You were Sam's. He couldn't have you. He never knew about the abuse. He had his suspicions at times but never thought his son would do such a thing. Until he saw the bruises hidden under your sleeves. (Any gender, adults only.)