Prisoner (Criminals & Captives, #1)

by Annika Martin

We’re brothers. Closer than brothers. What is it called when you walk through the same fire and wear the same scars?

I look back at the road. Back in the foster home, I forgot to feed my two goldfish once and they died. I cried like a baby, and I felt like shit for weeks. After I got taken, sitting down in that basement in my corner by the metal locker, I’d be scratching designs on the floor with a nail while Stone and the older guys played cards or whatever and I’d think about those fish and I’d still feel like shit. But then we’d hear the footsteps up at the door, and if it wasn’t mealtime, we knew they’d be dragging one or two of us up there.

Sometimes you have to choose between one shitty thing and another.”

I reach down, desperate for something good to give her from inside my worthless self. Something real. “Sometimes, Abigail, you have to punch a fucking hole in your soul to survive.”