Things We Hide from the Light (Knockemout, #2)

by Lucy Score

Everyone was alive and breathing. Everyone but me. I was just pretending.

But part of me had died in that ditch that night, and what was left didn’t seem like it was worth fighting for.

Where I stuck to the black and white, sometimes it felt like the rest of the people around me lived entirely in the gray.

I wanted to go home and close the door. To shut out the world and sink into that darkness. I didn’t want to stop every six feet to have a conversation.

Once you showed an interest in someone, they started thinking it meant they had the right to tell you what to do and how to do it, two of my least favorite things.

“You make me feel things. And after going long enough without feeling anything, feeling something—even if it’s anger or adrenaline—is better than the nothing.”

“I just wish I woulda kept trying to look to the light instead of sinking into the dark,” he said. “A man can learn to live in that dark, but it’s no life.”

“Being vulnerable doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you trust yourself to be strong enough to handle the hurt. It’s actually the purest form of strength.”

I just know there’s nothing ballsy or brave about living your whole life behind walls. The real good shit doesn’t start until those bricks come down and you invite someone in. If you’re not scared shitless, you’re doin’ it wrong.”