Make Me (The Silent Hollow, #2)

by Alina May

So here’s to a world where the heroes don’t look much different than the villains. How else are you gonna beat them unless you play their game? -Alina

Have you ever tried to stuff a full-grown body into the backseat? As a former cop, I’d advise you not to answer that question.

Dissolving a body in acid is wildly inconvenient.

Why would you just shoot someone in the foot? To just leave them alive to tell on you?

Unless you enjoy the idea of prison? Smooth gray walls, no privacy, maybe an inmate or a guard to shove something up the ass? No, thank you.

Made it up like I’m dying for a grippy sock vacation. Like I want to see the inside of a mental hospital and never end up leaving.

In my sober moments—or my hungover ones—I know a stuffed cow isn’t talking to me. It’s just not a thing. We live in the real world, and I’m no Disney princess.

They’re so far up the chief’s asshole I’m surprised they can get back out.

This is mine now. He’s mine now. Everything about him is mine.

Ronan is mine to break. Mine to torture. Mine to play with. And when I’m done making him pay for reminding me of what I can’t have, he’ll be mine to kill.

I found out later that Greyson killed himself. Hung himself from the rafters in his room. Also found out that before he died, he vomited. And I wasn’t there to rub his back. It was all my fault. I stopped talking to him, and he thought I gave up. The good part of my soul died that night.

“My name’s Logan. You call me that again, and I’ll shove my dick so far up your ass you won’t even remember what you look like.”

I’ll be a good boy. I’ll make my parents proud. I’ll never be gay. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll realize I’ve been paying attention. Maybe they’ll say I wasn’t such a bad kid after all. Maybe they won’t stop loving me.

I just want someone to save me. Someone to make me safe.

Could I? Would I? This is survival, Ronan. If it’s suck a dick or die, you’ll suck the goddamn dick.

Logan smiles, giving me a little pat on the cheek. “Good boy.” And now, I’m suddenly hard.

Maybe it’s not the heroes who save the world at all. Maybe it’s the villains.

Sam Roe was my first kill.

“You just need to be fucking punished; that’s what it is. Fucking brat.”

Note to self: drink whiskey; it makes you gay.

It takes me a second to catch my breath. I’m not sure if I ever will. Because that was the best kiss I’ve ever had.

this is Ronan. The guy who hates me. The guy who still thinks he’s straight. The guy who had a gun stuffed down the back of his pants to kill me with. That’s hot.

What other choice do I have? Because I’m finding that anywhere Ronan Carter goes, I’ll follow.

“I want to be your first.” My heart stutters, and I stare at Ronan. He…what? “Make me your first.”

It’s time to kill a man with my boyfriend and our lapdog. It’s not justice because if it was, this would have happened a long time ago.

“I’m not going anywhere. You have time. You’re not an inconvenience. And I’m not waiting for you to ‘get better.’ Whatever the hell that means. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Fuck. I’m definitely fucked in the head because 10/10 would get kidnapped again.

I huff. I should be at work right now. This is a soft kidnapping. I’m even wearing a gun, and I’m letting it happen. My god, the daddy issues.