There Are No Saints (Sinners, #1)

by Sophie Lark

“If we’re ever alone in a room again, only one of us will walk out breathing.”

I do not love men: I love what devours them.

All I learned is that no amount of submission is good enough for a man. You can roll over, show your belly, beg for mercy, and they’ll just keep hitting you. Because the very act of breathing is rebellious in the eyes of an angry male.

And I realize . . . she’s everything I dreamed of and more. More vengeful. More strategic. More effective. More fucked up.

Because scars don’t heal -- they’re there forever.”