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“Don’t waste your time trying to fix me. You’ll only cut yourself on my fucked-up pieces.”
Bianca simply laughs. “Yeah, no. The Patriots suck.”
“Besides, it could always be worse.” “How?” “She could have gone as a Patriot,” he says before he hangs up. Prick.
Something tells me he wouldn’t appreciate me informing him that I have every intention of fucking his daughter so good she’s going to start calling me daddy soon.
“What’s that, Mama?” I call over my shoulder. “You need help with the dishes?” He playfully tugs on my ponytail. “Brat.”
I hurt…so I hurt others.
It’s time to blow this popsicle stand.”
“Jolene,” he yells. “Get my gun.” At that, Cole’s eyes turn big as saucers. “Don’t do it, Jolene.”
I’d like to see the prick lay a finger on either of them while I’m there.
“I could spend the rest of my life hating Cole for it, but then I’d lose two brothers.”
Cocking an eyebrow, he opens the second pizza box. Meatball. My favorite. “Asshole.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Nope. I’m too selfish to do that.
He fucked up my woo.
