All Hail the Underdogs (Breakaway, #3)

by E.L. Massey

“Because the smell of scotch is tied to every single memory I have of my dad beating the shit out of me. So give it to me and take the fucking water, or I’m going right back to the train station.”

I like the idea of that. That things can be damaged and remade—maybe not the same as they were before the damage, but still beautiful afterward.”

He will never be so cruel, so selfish as to create something that needs love and then abandon it.

Maybe there are people who are made of the same sort of dust. People who used to be part of the same star that’s trying to find its way back together again.