Beneath the Surface (Sugarlake, #4)

by Emily McIntire

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

That’s all anything is, really. A choice.

Alex kisses me like he’s reaching inside my chest and stealing my breath for his own. Like he’d let the world burn, if only I’d ask him for the ashes.

And while I know I’ll never be whole again, for the first time, I wonder if it’s possible to fall in love with jagged edges.

“Give me all your secrets,” she speaks against my lips. “I promise to keep them safe.”

“Never expect a narcissist to admit their wrongdoing. They’ll paint themselves as the hero or the victim, but they’ll never be the villain.”

but it was him who fucked me up for life. He conditioned me into believing that the pain was pleasure, and that his dirty body splitting mine apart was love. I was nine and too young to know better. Eventually, I grew attached to the way he could make me feel. I craved his approval. He turned me into something shameful. Something twisted. Something sick.