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59 pages, ebook
First published February 26, 2014
"Three. This is my number. It's the exact sum of reasons I continue to go on."
"On a Tuesday. In broad daylight. Just a door away from a gymnasium full of screaming teenagers. In my school, where I was supposed to be safe."

Three. This is my number. It’s the exact sum of reasons I continue to go on.Rocky (yes, a girl named Rocky) has a brother named Joe who just got a new job at Link’s gym. Rocky isn’t the same girl she used to be. Being raped in high school was bad enough, but knowing that the rapist got a way free is too much for her to take. She copes in the only way she knows how.
One: To strengthen my body. Make it strong. Make it a machine. Make it so that what happened before can never, ever, happen again.
Two: To help others find their own strength so that what happened to me, what happened to Liv, doesn’t happen to them.
And three: My favorite- to find the bastards that took my life away and make them pay for what they did.
This is what my life is now. A dead man, inside a scarred body, living only for revenge.

One- To strengthen my body.
Two- To help others find their own strength.
Three- The find the bastards that did this.









"Three. This is my number. It's exact sum of reasons I continue to go on.Rocky
One: To strengthen my body.
Two: To help others find their own strength.
Three: To find bastards that took my life away and make them pay for what they did."
"Ever since that day, I haven't felt like doing girlie rituals to pretty myself up. I haven't felt like doing much of anything, really. If it isn't drinking or sleeping, I'm not into it."Very good, promising start to this series. I'm hooked. Off to the next one.




“This is what my life is now. A dead man, inside a scarred body, living only for revenge.”
“Ever since that day, I haven't felt like doing girlie rituals to pretty myself up. I haven't felt like doing much of anything, really. If it isn't drinking or sleeping, I'm not into it.”
"Link walked in and looked at me with those lifeless eyes and it felt like looking in a mirror."


Eighteen. That's how many times I was stabbed with a flaying knife. I remember eight.
Five. That's how many surgeries it took to repair all the damage. The damage caused to my body. Not my mind. Not my heart. There's no repairing those.
Ten. The number of months I spent in the hospital.
Four. Months in rehab.
Three. This is my number. It's the exact sum of reasons I continue to go on. ONE: To strengthen my body. Make it strong. Make it a machine. Make it so that what happened before can never, ever, happen again. TWO: To help others find their own strength so that what happened to me, what happened to Liv, doesn't happen to them. And THREE: My favorite - to find the bastards that took my life away and make them pay for what they did.
This is what my life is now. A dead man, inside a scarred body, living only for revenge.
I'm angry.
It took two years of therapy to figure that out.
I'm scared.
It took one night of sleeplessness to accept that.
I'll never be the same.
I'm still coming to terms with that one.

Three. This is my number. It's the exact sum of reasons I continue to go on.
One: To strenghten my body. Make it strong. Make it a machine. Make it so that what happened before can never, ever, happen again.
Two: To help others find their own strength so what what happened to me, what happened to Liv, doesn't happen to them.
And three: My favorite- to find the bastards that took my life away and make them pay for what they did.
Scars like that are universal. We earn them differently, we wear them differently, but we all carry them the same.


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