More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Yeah, and what if life’s the trap?” “God, who are you, My Chemical Romance? Christ, Kye, that’s dramatic.”
“You prayed for deliverance. Begged God to send a message. Please, Lord, hear me.” Their voice overlayed atop his, tumbling unnaturally from his lips like a warped recording. He wrapped the bandage around their arm, over the curve of their thumb, and lifted his eyes to meet theirs. “But I heard you first.” Kye swallowed. “And you are?” “Not God.”
“And what happens next? I crawl across the ceiling? Spew pea soup everywhere? Fuck myself with a cross?”
“Imagine grabbing a possum. Like, it’s fuckin’ vicious, snarling, foaming at the mouth, whole nine yards, and you throw it in a metal trashcan, shake the trashcan, and then lock the pissed possum inside a house.” Kye narrowed their eyes and chewed with their mouth open, smacking their lips rudely. “That’s what it’s like living with you.”
Kye dunked two fingers into the gilded bowl at the mouth of the aisle and touched the center of their forehead, expecting the Holy Water to sizzle. Ouch. Eli’s voice was mocking and sarcastic.
“You know, not everyone who’s nice to you has an ulterior motive.” They spoke with their mouth full. “The demon possessing me probably does.”
Not when love manifested like a lost bird, smacking against locked windows, looking for a way out. A way in, maybe.
The dredges of society had found sanctuary with Rosa yet her own offspring had been held to impossible standards, expected to be righteous and pure, selfless and sacrificial. They had grown inside her, so she’d expected them to be exactly what she’d anticipated—beautiful woman; loving daughter; caretaker of the family matriarch.
“I know, I know. Maybe not now, maybe not ever, but the church is here if you need it. Come for communion, come for confession, come for silence.” Tell him you only come for me.
Thomas Gilbert’s bloated corpse was still strewn across their kitchen floor, and their muscles were still lax and lulled from fucking Eli in a pool of his blood, and they knew—they knew—she’d never understand.

