Some people said Davey Beet came in here never meaning to leave, that she had broken him to a point that he couldn’t come back from. What if they’re saying the same about me? What if Duke’s busted nose and Natalie’s snide little smile make everyone think Ashley Hawkins would rather be dead than without him? “Fuck that,” I tell Davey. “I’d rather be alive with half a foot and a busted rib and a sprained wrist and covered in my own blood and mostly naked and wearing a moldy blanket, but a-fucking-live.” “Damn straight,” I say back to myself, because I think that’s what Davey would’ve said. “And
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