All In (Full Tilt #2)

by Emma Scott

“Now,” Jonah said, his gaze intent. “The favor…I want from you… Remember?” I sat forward in the chair. “Name it.” “Kacey…” My voice stuck in my throat. I coughed it free. “What about her?” “You love her.”

There is beauty everywhere, even in the things that scare you the most…

Every night, I called one final thought into the deep darkness: Come back to me. And just before the dark consumed me, a whisper returned: My angel, let me go…

“You content yourself with the belief what you’re doing is best for those around you. Yet your own dreams and goals suffer for it. You must choose a path. Finalize a decision that has been looming before you. Take action for your own sake, not for the sake of others, or remain forever suspended.”

“The card of Death is a harbinger of change,” the psychic said. “It is the closing of one door, and the opening of another. Transition. You feel cast adrift, no? Trapped in an in-between state that has left you unsure of how to proceed. You cannot go back, and yet…”

The answer is to unclench your heart from the past. Close the door. Open a new chapter. Only then can you be free of the pain that haunts you.”

When little slivers of hope put in an appearance, you have to grab them and hold on. Give them a smile. Otherwise, what’s the fucking point?

“Real men take care of the women in their lives as a matter of course. Not because they want something in return.”

You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same.— Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

“Why? I mean, why then and there, in the middle of the woods?” Because I heard you sing. And I knew I’d never be the same.

“A semicolon is where a writer can choose to end the sentence,” she said, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. “But they don’t. The story goes on. It’s a symbol of hope. To keep going.” She smiled tremulously. “Sometimes I need that reminder.”

Oh my God, get a grip. You’re setting the feminist movement back fifty years.

“The feeling you have in that moment right as you wake up, before your brain mucks it all up with thoughts and words? That very first feeling is where the truth lives.”

“Where there is ruin, there is hope for treasure.” She gave me another of her knowing smiles. “It’s one of my favorites.” “Yeah,” I said, a smile finding its way to my lips. “It sounds pretty fucking good to me too.”

“God, don’t let me go, Kace,” he said against my neck. “I won’t,” I said. “Never again.”

My Theo. My universe.

“Kace,” he whispered. “My treasure.”

“Jonah,” she said. I swallowed hard. “It’s Theo, honey.” It’s me. Not him. I’m here now. Don’t you remember? She opened her eyes. They were clearer now, and the corners of her mouth lifted in a funny little smile. Not doped-up but patient. “Jonah says she’s safe.” Her hand reached up to touch my face. “Jonah?” I whispered. “She’s safe with him, Teddy…” The smile still on her face, she fell asleep again.

Oh my god

“You’re my entire world. My …” “Universe,” Kacey whispered, her fingers brushing my cheek softly. “You’re my universe. I love you, Teddy…”

Love had no end. She was infinite. She was a universe, my universe, and I was hers. Love had no boundaries, no rules, no favorites. And no limits.

A blue butterfly poised on my shoulder, its wings the color of a summer sky when the sun is about to set. Rimmed in sharp, deep black, shining like onyx where the light caught it. It was so real, so perfectly rendered I imagined it would fold and unfold its wings at any moment, fly off my shoulder and into Theo’s palm. But the butterfly remained on its perch. At the end of the universe. Theo had rendered an arc of Jonah’s glass along the right side of my shoulder blade, a dark piece of sky, shining with stars and star dust within. It streaked across my skin before tapering away into forever, beyond what my skin could hold. Unfinished. But unending.