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258 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 15, 2013


The night I met Abby Ford, my life changed forever.
“You’re not nothing. Don’t ever fucking say that again, because you’re everything.” He said it again, quietly this time, “You’re fucking everything, Bee.”
We were just us, broken and bruised, fucked-up and messy, and together we were everything we never thought we could be.
Fresh wounds mixed with old scars. A portrait of my life in pain. Proof that I had been beaten, but I wasn’t broken.
They couldn’t fucking break me.
We’d almost healed each other once, and the pain of being almost healed is worse than the pain of being broken to begin with.


























"We were looking right into each other. Broken soul to broken soul."
"I contributed nothing and took everything. But to be fair about it, I also expected nothing from the godless world that ripped me apart at every turn. I expected nothing, until the night I met a certain redhead with attitude.
The night I met Abby Ford, my life changed forever."
"I wasn't the happy ending type… I was the fucked-up kid that fucked-up shit happened to. Why had I ever though I deserved more?"
"I fell asleep that night in the arms of a killer. I'd never slept better."
"We're all a little damaged, Bee. Some of us more than others."
"Why do you carry a gun?"
"I've answered this one for you before. Because there are some dangerous people out there."
"Yeah. But you've never said if you were one of them or not."
"What if I am? … Would it matter?"
"I want to help you. I want to hold you. I want to make it all okay for you. I want to fucking touch you because you're the most beautiful person I've seen, and I can't imagine never being able to hold your hand or kiss you."
"I loved all of him, the good and the bad, the light and the dark."



“Hope had been stripped from me at every minute of every hour of every day for my entire life.”
“I like the way you make the silence bearable.”
“I fell asleep that night in the arms of a killer. I’d never slept better.”
“We were looking right into each other. Broken soul to broken soul.”





It’s amazing what poor judgment you can have when your options are limited to practically nothing

I’d never been so irritated or disgusted and intrigued by someone in all my life – and I’ve met a lot of warped motherfuckers. It was the intrigued part that had me worried the most

I like the way you make the silence bearable

“I’m fine” I said. And I was. I was perfectly fine because I was numb. Numb people can’t be anything other than fine.







If there was one phrase that was running through my mind the entire time I was reading it, it was 'Holy shit!' I couldn't believe this was a debut novel. Brilliantly written, utterly captivating, the story of Abby and Jake stole my heart, broke me, gutted me, and kept me completely unable to put the book down until I finished. I was sucked in from the very first chapter.







“Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.”


“I like the way you make the silence bearable.”

Together, we were just us. Battered and broken. Dark and difficult. Impulsive and scared.




way!



"I didn't consider myself suicidal. Just tired."

"During my entire life, nobody had wanted me on my very best day on my very best behavior.
Nan wanted me at my worst, and sometimes, that was exactly what she got."

"What would happen when he got bored and tired of my sickeness, of my sadness and sorrow?"

"What's going on with us? It's important. I need to know now because at some point I'm not going to be able to give you what you want. And then what?"
He nuzzled his nose into my neck. "What is it you think I want?"
"Normal boy-girl stuff," I said throwing my hands in the air. I felt defeated before this line of conversation had even gotten started.
"That's where you're wrong. I don't want normal. I want you..."





























I fell asleep that night in the arms of a killer. I'd never slept better.

Sick, twisted Abby was in love with the sick, twisted, beautiful Jake.

Even though life hands you a big pile of shit, you don't have to roll around in it and make shit angels.

"Fuck anyone who thinks anything on someone like you could ever be anything beautiful. You should be proud of them, baby."
"Proud?"
"Yes, proud. They make you powerful. Each line is a road travelled, an experience you had, whether it was good or bad. Each mark is proof of pain in the past, not the present. You are a survivor, you are a warrior. These are the scalps hanging from your fucking belt. You took the beatings and here you are, in front of me. You are fucking amazing."
"Why do I want to touch you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? I want to help you. I want to hold you. I want to make it all okay for you. I want to fucking touch you because you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and I can't imagine never being able to hold your hand or kiss you. And yes - I want to fuck you, too, like I've never wanted anything in my whole life."

We may not have been perfect, or even acceptable by anyone else's standards. But together, we were perfect.
Together, we were just us.
Battered and broken. Dark and difficult. Impulsive and scared.

"I would kill for you, Bee. Happily." He ran his fingers down my cheek. "I need you to know that."
A revenge kill is the best kind of kill.
But a revenge kill for your family, with your woman's permission?
That's borderline erotic.


We were just us. Broken and bruised. Fucked up and messy. And together we were everything we never though we could be.


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