Echoes (Dance With My Demons, #2)

by Steph Macca

I'll paint the hallways red and string Christmas lights up made of intestines."

Oh, please try me. Please, please… push me over the edge. I'm begging you.

Out of sight, out of mind they say. But that's just bullshit. Now that I know she's in the same building as me again, the tether between us pulls. And I'm going to take that tether and wrap it around her soft body—whether that's to fuck her or kill her, I don't know yet.

I've never experienced the amount of love and hate simultaneously as she brings out in me right now.

I'm fucking possessive. I'm dangerous. I'll fucking kill for what's mine.

When Avery's involved, I want everything. Life. Death. Torture. Pleasure. Pain. Every-fucking-thing she can offer me.

"Who do you think killed Hallman, little killer? He didn't take his own life. No—I ended it. I ended that sad, pathetic excuse of a man because he touched you. He tried to hurt what's mine."

"When you go to heaven one day, I'll drag you back down to hell to join me. Because I'm never leaving you, Avery."

on my bed." He shrugs. "I gave you a flower. Girls like that shit." "Oh, that's the part you are focusing on," I scold playfully. "Here's the finger of your enemy… it's in a rose though." "I'm nothing if not unique,"

If souls exist, Avery, I don't have one."

I guess you could say if anything, I've had anger issues all my life. But rightfully so because people are fucking cunts. I have no patience for any of them. I don't have time to give pity, hold hands while someone cries about life. We all have problems—take a spoonful of cement and harden the fuck up.

"Your favorite place is an asylum?" she mutters in amusement. "You must be as fucked up as I am."