“I can’t sleep,” he confessed, rolling onto his side to face me. “And I’m so f-fucking tired, queen.” “Why not?” “Because when I close my eyes, he’s w-waiting for me.” “Who, Joe?” I squeezed out, reaching up to wipe a tear from his cheek. “Who’s waiting for you?” “My father.” “No, baby, he’s not waiting for you,” I whispered, closing the space between us and fusing my lips to his. I couldn’t help it. I had to be close to him. “He can’t hurt you anymore, Joe.” “He’s coming for me,” he whispered against my lips, and I felt his tears mix with mine. “He’s coming for a-all of us. We’re going to die
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