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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Oh, I’m going to see him—in a pile of broken bones. Here. Have a cookie.”
That moment when they’d knelt in the surf and the water flowed between their fingers—it felt intimate, powerful. The water liked her. He wanted to drag her back to the beach and do it again.
Touch was funny like that. How one movement could choke you and kill you, but another meant nothing more than a caress and an invitation. How sex and rape were just a few motions apart.
Don’t screw with her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even breathe in her direction. Get me?
