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“A dress like this commands attention. I would personally rather see you wear something like this when you’re older. It takes a little bit of life experience to learn how to deal with that kind of attention.”
No one in the world could cry like a sixteen-year-old girl.
trucker with Crohn’s disease taking the slow route so he could pull off and shit in a ditch
Thanks to diarrhea, Noah was still alive.
And he was good, he was damn good at human calculus.
He was good at death mathematics…
A million lacerations opened inside Cole all at once, as if he’d run his heart and soul through a cheese grater.
He’d gone preternaturally still, a predator in tall grasses, lying in wait.
He took one step and collapsed, falling to his hands and knees on the thin carpet of the hallway.
Noah was quietly popular
More trips to the black waters of Ian’s ocean, where only a dark moon shone. Out into the wilderness with Ian’s psychopathy. “I understand,” he said.
He mentally took Noah’s hand. This was his life now. Sunshine and happiness. A good man who loved him.
Cole searched the shadows and the puddles of darkness beyond the streetlights, his hand a vice around Noah’s, nostrils flared, eyes cold and hard as he scanned the parking lot.
Noah had no idea what to say. Cole was near and far.
You unlock him,
Ian had made a home for himself in the space between Cole’s neurons.
“I don’t want to be safe if it means I’m alone.”
Ian Ingram might be a monster from Cole’s past, but he was Noah’s suspect now.
He had a barrel chest and a white walrus mustache.
He was thinking in primary colors, big blocks of bold letters.
“There’s this hole inside me,” Cole said after long minutes of silence. “I call it my grave. It’s where I put the things I’ve seen that can’t be described. Things I can’t talk about or share. The grave sits between me and the rest of the world. Between you and me, even.”
Please, begin your marriage with a loving kiss.”
