Lesley

“Sometimes, there’s no running, no fighting. Sometimes, bad shit happens. The bad shit changes you. You can’t look at the world the same. You realize that manners, morals, culture, society, friends, and family are all fake. They’re ideas we cling to, to make existence bearable. When that’s ripped away — the fake optimistic bullshit — the only thing you have left is survival. Survival is messy. Survival has no morals or kindness. Survival isn’t black and white, good versus evil. Survival is shades of red; it’s blood taken and blood lost. My survival was a gun, liquor was my sustenance, and rough sex was my painkiller.”
― Harley Laroux, Her Soul for Revenge

“Don’t you fucking doubt that I’ll have your soul. I’m not letting you get away. I’m not letting anything” — he grasped me so hard, so tight, that I could hardly breathe, his heat rushing over me in waves — “anything take you from me. I’ll rip Heaven and Hell and this goddamn Earth apart before I let them steal you from me.”
― Harley Laroux, Her Soul to Take

“Murder bitches, get fucked...or something like that.” She gave me a long, exasperated stare. “It’s fuck bitches, get money, Zane.” “Right, yeah, that’s what I said.”
― Harley Laroux, Her Soul for Revenge

“No human is ready for forever, and forever is all I have. But you gave me a part of your life, when mortal lives are so short.” He laughed softly. “I suppose saving your soul could be as good as owning it, so you’d better fucking survive.” He glanced back at the trees, as a freezing wind ruffled his hair and another cry shattered the night. As the awful sound faded away, he said, “You should know that I love you, for whatever that’s worth. Stay alive. Don’t waste that mortal life.”
― Harley Laroux, Her Soul to Take