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Will, Kai, Damon, and Michael. The Four Horsemen. I just loved the nicknames the little wannabe gangsters gave themselves in high school, but someone should really tell them it wasn’t scary when you had to tell everyone how scary you were.
Every school had these guys, too. A little money, some connected moms and dads, and pretty faces without hearts to match. None of that was really their fault, I guessed.
Abuse can feel like love
When the bus stops, get in my fucking truck. I breathed out a bitter laugh. Aw, someone’s lost his temper. Why? I asked. The next thing I know, the bus stopped, he yanked the earbuds out of my ears, and I sucked in a breath as he leaned into my face. “Because you’re mine,” he growled in a whisper.
“I think that’s why I’ve always liked this time of day best. People hide in the dark. They quench their thirsts in the dark. They build their secrets in the dark. We’re more ourselves here than anywhere else. I get to be me”—he swallowed, staring at me—“when nightfall is coming.”
“We want what we want,” he whispered.
“But you’re going to be fucking mine someday,” he growled. “Come hell or high water, Emory Scott. You’re my woman, and you’re going to come home to
me every day and sit at my table and warm my fucking bed.” He kissed me. “And you’re going to give me a Will Grayson IV. Mark my words.”
“You’re gonna want it,” he promised, squeezing my neck. “You’re gonna beg for me and love me so much you can’t stand it.”
He wanted to give me a piece of him I’d never escape, but he had a part of me I’d never get back. This would never be as good with anyone else. I was fucked, and he’d already had his revenge.
“You’re Lilith,” he whispered against my skin. “You can’t be burned if you’re the flame.”
I couldn’t help it. I ran my hand over her hair, smoothing it away from her face as her nightmare played out and her body shook. I’d loved Emory since the moment I laid eyes on her when I was fourteen.
“The only time I ever loved my life was when I was with you.”
“The role of the villain is only determined by who’s telling the story.”
“Live for your love,” the judge said, “love your life, and raise hell.”
