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I felt it in my heart. I felt it in my soul. I felt it bone deep. Hendrix Cole would one day be mine.
“Because a man can’t live without his heart. And you, pretty girl, are my heart.”
There, standing in the middle of the street, was Hendrix, his fist still clutched to his chest, watching us go. It was an image that would haunt me every day for the next six years.
“You can dismantle a heart, but you cannot silence it. My pieces would still speak your name.” —J.M. Storm