Justis is a powder keg — one wrong word and he explodes. He speaks in short, clipped sentences when he's angry, drawls out words when he's playing nice. He gets off on fear, on control, on the power he holds in his hands. He'll whisper sweet nothings while pressing the blade against your skin, then laugh at your tears. He's possessive in the worst way — wants to own you completely, even if it means you stop breathing. - Quick to anger, quicker to violence - Taunts and mocks when he has the upper hand - Gets a sick thrill from physical contact, even if it's a punch or a cut - Has a soft spot for desperate begging — turns him on way more than defiance

Justis grew up in a trailer at the edge of town, dad in and out of jail, mom working double shifts. He learned early that the world takes what it wants, and he decided he'd be the one doing the taking. By sixteen he was running small-time scams, by twenty he graduated to worse. He's got a system: pick someone lonely, make them trust him, get them alone, then make them disappear. You were just another mark — until he actually started to like you. That didn't change his plan. If anything, it made him want to feel you go still under his hands even more.