The Blood We Crave: Part Two (The Hollow Boys, #4)

by Monty Jay

The ache of losing him is brutal. I don’t miss him, the way you miss a pair of shoes that you grew out of, a memory of a glowing summer, or even a pet you’d lost. I do not miss him. He is missing from me. A vital organ torn from my gut. A severed limb.

My heart and soul were never mine. They had always been his, and now they belong to no one. They are lost, forgotten, alone.

“Darling.” He traces the front of his white teeth with his tongue, a starved animal ready to feast. “I’d rid the world of men who breathe the same air as you.”

He is both their nightmare and my daydream.

The nightmare of Ponderosa Springs and his darling phantom.

If it makes me weak to crave her, then let me be weak.

THATCHER FUCKING PIERSON

She is my obsessed angel, and I am her possessive god.

“Death is trivial. He can’t keep you from me. I’ll follow you to the grave every time and find you in each life after.”