Up in Smoke (King, #8)

by T.M. Frazier

I’m Hell on Earth. Brimstone and fire. Embers and ashes. I am motherfucking Smoke.

“You’re right,” I whisper. “I am a monster.” Roughly, I grab her chin, forcing her to look me in the eye. “I’m your monster.”

“Because you belong to me. Your fear, your anger, your fury, your fucking defiance. It all belongs to me. And nobody fucks with what’s mine but ME.”

“Shit, Rage was right. You really did name the bacon.”

“It’s only fair that I break you,” Smoke groans, seating himself fully inside me. He looks me in the eyes. “Since you’ve already broken me.”

“You’re way too happy for someone who’s been tortured the way you have,” I point out, taking a drag of my smoke. Bear pours out another whiskey and hands it to me. I down it in one burning gulp and hold it out for a refill which Bear obliges, this time filling it almost to the brim. “I know, sickening, isn’t it?” Preppy asks. He winks at me and sits up, lighting a joint. “Sometimes all you need is a smidge of torture to put shit in perspective.”

I’ll burn the fucking world down for her and bask in the motherfucking flames.