Steadfast (True North, #2)

by Sarina Bowen

I realized a minute later that I was still standing there in my wreck of a room, holding my nose over a plastic shampoo bottle like a moron. But there’s no shame in missing someone. Trust me—I am well versed in shame. The pile of things I was ashamed of doing was as tall as Mount Mansfield. Missing her wasn’t a crime, though. Anybody would.

I needed to air out my room. Air out my lungs. Air out my whole goddamned life.

When I was seventeen, I thought Jude was sent to me from heaven. When I was eighteen, I let him take me there. When I was nineteen, he broke both my heart and my family.

even a glimpse of him had given me palpitations. As if my subconscious had recognized a piece of my soul before my brain got a chance to speak up.

I stared him down for a second. After all, what was the use of being a convicted killer if you couldn’t scare people once in a while? There weren’t any other perks, that was for damned sure.

“Even the grimmest lives have moments of beauty,” I’d heard an addict say once. “Don’t miss ’em.”

Kissing her wasn’t a decision I made. It was just inevitable, the way a clap of thunder follows lightning.

An addiction is when you can’t keep away from something that’s bad for you. Maybe Jude was a drug addict, but I was a Jude addict.

it takes courage to want things, and to pursue them. Staying numb means you can never be disappointed.”