A Reason To Kill (Reason, #2)

by C.P. Smith

Clumsy doesn’t equal weak; it equals scabbed knees.

He’d been raised to believe by his crazy mother that each man and woman has a perfect match, that God splits one soul into two bodies. That those souls always find one another again, that like mercury, when they are close, the need to merge, to be whole, is elementary. She said you knew immediately when you met them that you were in the presence of your other half.