"Then what tells the truth?" She tilted her head to the side, curious about his thought process. "Heart," he stated, no affliction in his voice. "And what does yours say?" The unscarred side of his lips lifted. "Nothing. Fucker hasn't spoken in years. It's a dead, scarred piece of useless muscle." God, it hurt her. It hurt her that he'd built himself a tower with walls so high it had become impenetrable.
