Skin of a Sinner

by Avina St. Graves

“The next time something happens, you call me. Even if it’s just to ask which shirt you should wear or if you're out of snacks. I don’t give a shit if I’m working, sleeping, or half-dead; you grab that phone, and you call me. I’ll pick up whatever you need, even if I’m six feet under, Bella. There isn’t a god in existence that could stop me from getting to you. So you pick up that phone and call me before you even think about calling the cops. Got it?”

God, I’m so pathetic. So this is how it is? I’m going to need a babysitter for the rest of my life? I can’t go anywhere without Mickey, just in case I accidentally kill myself, because I can’t seem to do something as basic as breathing. How could he want that? Why should he want that? He’s trying to help me, and I won’t even help myself.

That’s so annoying. I’m starting not to like her. I hate a self deprecating FMC.