Exodus Kate Stewart Quotes

We love rainy days, don’t we, baby?

Until we meet again. Until we can feel the rain on both our faces. There has to be a time for us in the next life. I don’t want any part of a heaven where I don’t see you.

Your heart is not your weakness, Cecilia. It’s mine.

Loving you made me sick, and I don’t ever want to get well.

Je suppose que je serai toujours la fille qui pleure à la lune.” I guess I’ll always be the girl crying for the moon.

Keep dreaming. Keep planning. Dream a thousand dreams and then make a thousand things happen.

We love rainy days don't we baby?

If you leave, I’ll come after you. If you change your mind, I’ll change it back. I’ll fight so fucking hard for you every single day, so you never question if you made the right choice.

You said we can never be.” He presses in. “We. Fucking. Are.

Because loving you made me sick as fuck and losing you twice has made me terminal.

Yours. I was always supposed to be yours,” I say as he nods and crushes me with his kiss.

I may be the villain you fell for, but that doesn’t make me any less the villain.

What did you do?” I whisper. “I did what thieves do. I stole you!

Because loving you made me sick as fuck and losing you twice has made me terminal. I don’t want to live out any ending that doesn’t include you.

And if I’m damning myself, I’m going to enjoy the burn.

Because of you, I see this place again for what it truly is. It hasn’t lost any of its magic. I just forgot how to look for it.

I don’t care how fucked up we turn out as long as I’ve got you.

You have infected me with your sickness, and now I’m an addict too.

We both know I was never going to make it to thirty, brother. Take care of her.

Love will make you a complete idiot, and I’m no less guilty of being a slave to it than any other woman.

It was a year. Just one year. But it changed everything for me.

I’ve never met a woman so willing to brave her own destruction for just a little truth.

Please. God, please, Cecelia, let me finally love you the way you deserve.

Every decision we make in life is a move, our opponent invisible. Whether it be the enemy of illness, or the enemy you sleep with, you don’t get that knowledge until the opponent makes itself known.

I don’t know, Collin. I guess…” I repeat Tobias’s words. “I don’t get a happy ending. I just get an ending.

Love isn’t an inconvenience, it isn’t a mistake, and the danger makes it all worth it. I walked through fucking fire for you. I survived hell for you. You don’t deserve me. You never deserved me, not at all. But I deserve you. I. Deserve. You. But it’s the king I deserve. It’s the king I want.” I clench my fists. “I loved the bastard I met, the thief that stole me, and the king who claimed me, but I refuse to love the coward. I hate the coward.

I’m a best-kept secret.

Fuck you, you backwoods fake ass fucking robin hood wannabe son of a bitch!

Unforgettable assholes with a side of motherfucker.

If you leave, I’ll come after you. If you change your mind, I’ll change it back. I’ll fight so fucking hard for you every single day, so you never question if you made the right choice.

After this, you want to watch a movie?” Dominic asks. “You can make that cheddar popcorn I love. We can crowd under that blanket that smells like…what’s that smell?” I choke on a fresh wave of fear. “Lavender,” I say as more tears stream down my cheeks. “Yeah. And I’ll let you watch a chick movie because all I really want to do is watch you watch it. Your face gets all dopey when you get love drunk.

Je ne veux pas n’être qu’une phase pour toi.

Because…how can love be a mistake?” A warm tear runs down my face as I finally look up at him. “Even if it’s not enough, if it’s more trouble than it’s worth, if it does me more harm than good, even if everyone I give myself to denies me, I refuse to believe it’s a mistake.

And the fact that you can’t stand by what you preach doesn’t make me less of a woman. It makes you both less of a man. You are the ones who told me to take what I want when I want it. I guess the rule only applies if what I want is you!

But in the spirit of full disclosure, you should know that every time I look at you, Cecelia, I want your attention, your lips, your tongue, your body. You have infected me with your sickness, and now I’m an addict too.

In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed— But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted.—A Dream, Edgar Allen Poe

In every aspect of life, safety is an illusion.

Keep dreaming. Keep planning. Dream a thousand dreams and then make a thousand things happen.

je ne veux pas ñ'être qu'une phase pour toi' (I don't want to be just a phase for you)

At this point I would rather be alone than a liar. I came back to declare war on my memories, to draw my lines, and I’m already disgusted with just how relieved I am by reclaiming, owning my dark side.

Because the life I truly want doesn’t have a thing to do with perfection. It’s the farthest thing from safe, and the man I want is anything but gentle.” And

Guilt. Guilt separates us, but it was our mistakes that made us.

My hate for him continues to grow, along with my attraction.

He pins me beneath him, pressing my wrists to the grass, his hair tickling my chin as he gazes down at me. “A selfish moment,” he whispers softly before he captures my mouth, drawing me into the most damning and selfish of kisses.

Maybe my answer isn’t to get away, but become one of them, to blend in and play ignorant to all that’s wrong in this fucked-up world so I can breathe a little easier, so one day, I can mindlessly smile again.

He went too far, and I went with him, but for a completely different reason. But I’ll share in the punishment. And I’ll crave my enemy. Because that’s what we are.

Sometimes…s-sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever grow up enough to know the difference between what I romanticize and what’s real.

Cecelia,” he whispers, the lilt in his tone breaking me apart as he brings his hazel eyes to mine, drawing me back to a time when things were so much simpler. A time where I could love him freely, reach out and touch him. “You were the first goddamn person I thought of every morning and the only woman I have ever dreamed about. And if you would have waited for me, I would have given you the opposite of nothing.

With every slow thrust of his tongue, every possessive push of his hips, he damns us, the confession in his eyes narrating our story, our ill-fated fortune as star-crossed fools, sharing a merciless love neither of us can ever deny, but can never keep.

I hate that I love the way he kisses me. It’s possession and now bordering on obsession, and it’s not what I’m supposed to feel.

Your heart is not your weakness, Cecelia. It’s mine.

A bird, unable to fly, is still a bird; but a human unable to love is an inexpensive stone.

I’ll find you again. I’ll find you in my dreams. We’ll have so many rainy days. I’ll find you—

I’m keeping my love story, not because it included both martyr and sacrifice, or because it’s the story I wanted, it’s because I would never rewrite it. And I would live it all over again just for the chance to sing with him.

T’aimer m’a rendu malade et je ne veux plus jamais guérir.” Loving you made me sick, and I don’t ever want to get well.

W-w-hy,” I clear my throat, “why now?” “Because loving you made me sick as fuck and losing you twice has made me terminal. I don’t want to live out any ending that doesn’t include you.

Deep down, even though I have everything I’ll ever want, more than I could have ever expected for myself, some part will always wish it was me.” “I’m sorry,” I whisper as tears coat my lips as I gaze up at him. “I sometimes wish I would never have met him, never laid eyes on him.

But that’s the difference between a boy in a book or a movie and a man in the real fucking world. Some of us don’t want to know the inner workings of your mind and heart, or throw away our pride, or tell you our secrets and confess our love. Some of us just want to fuck you until we tire of you and move on.

It strikes me then that I’ve never known all-consuming love until this day, until him, and I’m positive, I will never know it like that again. I found my truth in love just seconds before it was ripped from me. A curse, a damning fate, to be in love with a man I was supposed to view as my rival who instead stole my heart.

Sleep, prince,” I say softly, biting my lips as my hot tears pelt his face. I lace my fingers with Dominic’s and close my eyes. “I’ll find you again. I’ll find you in my dreams. We’ll have so many rainy days. I’ll find you—

He stares down at me, gasping out his release, unmistakable terror in his eyes. And I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful for every vulnerable second of it because I see the recognition when he realizes what I already know. He didn’t want to feel anything, and instead, he felt everything. We’ve just ruined ourselves with our hate for the other.

You were the first man to break my heart, and I guess it’s fitting. But you didn’t have to. You didn’t have to punish us both. I came here to collect your fortune, but I would give every dime back for just a few minutes with you.

It’s fear that’s going to keep us angry, keep us confused, keep us penniless.

When it gets hurt, it has a tendency to self-sabotage.

It’s not a storm, Tobias,” I say, looking up at the sky. “It’s a blessing.

The wings on my back, I decide belong to me. And with them, I free myself.

It takes a queen to love and understand a king. Did you think this would break me? You made me!

But I’m starting to understand the root of some of my attraction. When I look at him, I do see Dominic and Sean. When he speaks, I hear bits and pieces of them both. I must still be looking at him in that way because he lifts his chin, prompting me.

I was honest with you.” He pulls me to him, my back to his front as he rests his head on my pillow, his warm breath hitting my ear. “So was I. Je ne veux pas n’être qu’une phase pour toi.

I didn’t know where you got the dress, so I couldn’t replace it. But the negligee felt like you. Soft,” he presses a kiss below my ear, “sensual,” and another, “delicate,” he pulls back to weigh my reaction before licking along my bottom lip, “beautiful.

He loves you, you know.” I turn back to where he sits. “Not that I’m encouraging this shit because let me make myself clear, I hate him. He’s a pompous, French asshole. But no man can rage that much over a woman that means nothing to them. He’s fighting it.

So was I. Je ne veux pas n’être qu’une phase pour toi.

For once in my life, I’m okay with letting love lose.

Until we meet again, Until we can feel the rain on both our faces. There has to be a time for us in the next life. I don't want any part of a heaven where I don't see you.

Yeah. And I’ll let you watch a chick movie because all I really want to do is watch you watch it. Your face gets all dopey when you get love drunk.

I don’t want to love him,” I whisper hoarsely. “Stupidly, I thought…” “Thought what?” “I thought I would see him, and my adult brain would kick in and reason with my stupid heart.

You said we can never be.” He presses in. “We. Fucking. Are.

I’ll always have a piece of you,” he strokes my back in the soothing way I’ve missed for so long, “And you will always have a piece of me.” He pulls back and cradles my face in his hands. “But I can see it. You still haven’t let go. You have to let go so you can get your happiness too. You were never to blame. Never. And I know if Dominic could, he would tell you the same. It was his decision. And he loved you.” I nod and nod as he wipes my never-ending tears. “I regret a lot of shit from back then, a lot, but I don’t regret you. I loved you then and now, and I always will.

Your mother is a selfish narcissist, your father dodged his responsibilities, you feel that my brothers used you and abandoned you, and you’re putting on a brave front all the while you’re fucking dying inside.

That’s one question I can answer,” he whispers, his eyes piercing as he leans in, “yes.” “Yes, what?” “Yes,” he strokes my face, “I’ve been in love.” The words strike hard, and I burst into tears at the sound of them. He grips me in his hold before pressing a brief kiss to my lips and pulling away. “But she went and fell in love with my brother.

That’s one question I can answer,” he whispers, his eyes piercing as he leans in, “yes.” “Yes, what?” “Yes,” he strokes my face. “I’ve been in love.” The words strike hard, and I burst into tears at the sound of them. He grips me in his hold before pressing a brief kiss to my lips and pulling away. “But she went and fell in love with my brother.

I don’t want to fucking leave. I don’t want to argue. I don’t want to hate myself. I don’t want to blame you. I’m tired of being angry at them, but damn them and…damn you, Cecelia, you were never supposed to know them, you were never,” his face twists with fury as my heart seizes, “you were…” He jerks me to stand, pulling me against him, anger rolling off his frame, anguish in his eyes. “Yours. I was always supposed to be yours,” I say as he nods and crushes me with his kiss.

With Sean’s music filling the air, Dominic’s buzz at my fingertips and feet, I pick up speed over the county line, just as the sun peeks back through the clouds. And then I’m flying. The wings on my back, I decide belong to me. And with them, I free myself.

He rubs his thumb along my cheek. “I did watch. That night you told me you hoped I was watching. I was. I have been the whole time,” he whispers softly, “I couldn’t look away.” A sob bursts from my lips as he draws us together, our foreheads touching. “I’ll make it up to you. Every day I denied you, I denied myself. I’ll make up for it for the rest of our punishment. Je t’aime, Cecelia. I love you so fucking much. Mon trésor.

And two types of people,” he goes on, completely unfazed. “There’s the one that will walk past that offending piece of lint or paper on the floor every single day and tell themselves they’ll get to it. And those that will pick it up the minute they spot it. They’ll figure out where it came from, trash it, and forget it was ever there. But, for the ones that walk by it every day, it will become a problem. It will start to fester. Another something they’ll have to get to. Another pea on their plate. They’ll start to look for it, its presence a nuisance, and tell themselves they’ll get to it tomorrow. Until one day, it’s more of a crisis of conscience than a pea.” “Let me guess. You don’t have any peas on your plate.” One side of his mouth lifts in contempt before he speaks through thick lips. “I fucking hate peas.” “It’s a piece of lint.” “Only to the person who picked it up.

You gave me a choice the day you left, to play coward or be king.” He releases me, pulling a chess piece from his pocket and places it in my palm. “And you were right, you’ve always had the heart of a queen, but you have to know, earning your love will be the only thing that will make me a king.

Je suppose que je serai toujours la fille qui pleure à la lune.

Watch yourself.” “Or what?

Fine. But I hate him.

Please, Pup, eat,” he swipes his thumb across my chin, “dance, sing, smile.

Please, Pup, eat,

A fucking Greek tragedy with a Shakespearean twist.

We love rainy days don't we baby?

I think it cut much deeper than I could heal. I’m not saying I went out and purposefully sought to sabotage myself, but it sure as hell didn’t stop me from acting on impulse.

Love isn’t an inconvenience, it isn’t a

You might be trouble. But you’re still more. A lot more.

Your mother is a selfish narcissist, your father dodged his responsibilities,

You keep trying to give yourself, your heart, your allegiance away to anyone who will have it for reasons you can’t understand, but it’s so painfully clear.

Dominic is gone. Gone. There’s no coming back from this. From losing him. Not ever.

And then I’m flying. The wings on my back, I decide belong to me. And with them, I free myself.

He was mine. From that minute on. He was mine.

I know you, Cecelia, because you know me, and it’s here, in this place, that we recognized we’ve known each other all along.

I would not do that to you, mon trésor.” My treasure. The man just called me his treasure.

I know you, Cecelia, because you know me, and it’s here, in this place that we recognized we’ve known each other all along.

I wish you well, Tyler, be happy, okay?” “I’ve got your back, Cee. Always.” “I know.” He winks, and like most of the other men in my life, he disappears.

I’ve come to claim what’s mine. And you know it’s not the fucking car.

Ce qui te blesse, me blesse.” What hurts you, hurts me.

Don’t be so quick to dismiss what I’m offering, Cecelia. We could learn from each other.

We’re going to have dinner and a conversation.” “Why?” “Because I’m fighting hard not to become the monster you so easily bring out of me. This is business.

This,” he palms my back, “it’s the fucking worst thing I’ve ever done to anyone, but,” he swallows, “you are the only thing I’ve ever stolen for myself.

Well, brother, would you take a fucking look at this? Are you seeing what I’m seeing?

I wanted him—Dominic’s brother.

You were always supposed to be his secret to keep.

Sean was the first man I ever truly loved, and one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever known.

Rolling the windows down, the wind whips through the car along with the whisper of a memory, of a voice. Eggs—runny, coffee—black.

Get out.” “I wish it were that simple.” “It is. You stand, you walk out that door, and you don’t come back. And you cease to exist for me too.

For once in my life, I’m okay with letting love lose. I’ll forever be a foolish romantic, chasing the high, though no high will ever compete with the one I felt with him. It ends here.

I close my eyes and mouth the truth. “I love you.” It’s when I open them that I see his raw reaction to my confession. He takes a step forward, his face marred with indecision a second before he snaps our connection and joins Sean in the car. And in the next breath, they disappear. It’s then I know whatever battle they fought to keep me in, they lost. And ‘one day’ may never come.

You going to lick the bottom of her stilettos when she’s done here?” “She’s not into foot kink,” Ryan retorts with a sure smile. Tobias’s eyes drift up to mine. The look in them enough to condemn me.

There’s something you need to know,” he swallows, his frame rattling as he covers my hand on his chest, the beat beneath quickening, smashing against my palm as if trying to break free. “Your heart is not your weakness, Cecelia. It’s mine.

You are a fighter. I’ll give you that.” His lips inches away, he searches my eyes. “But you give too much for not enough. You trust too easily because you’ve been lonely your whole fucking life.” “Says a lonely king to the lonely little girl.

Prince Déchu Fallen Prince It’s been over two thousand days since his departure, since he was stolen from us, from me, leaving an irreparable and permanent hole in my heart. I can still recall the curl of his dark lashes when I closed his eyes.

I’ve only begun to prove myself to you. Let me. Please let me. If you never tell me you love me again, I’ll deserve it, and I won’t even ask for it. Not ever. But it’s your heart that I want most, Cecelia, not your beautiful face or your body, it’s your heart that I’m drawn to, it’s your heart that’s the most beautiful thing about you, it’s your heart that makes you my most worthy opponent.” He buries his head in my neck. “Please. God, please, Cecelia, let me finally love you the way you deserve.

You never deserved me, not at all. But I deserve you. I. Deserve. You. But it’s the king I deserve. It’s the king I want.” I clench my fists. “I loved the bastard I met, the thief that stole me, and the king who claimed me, but I refuse to love the coward. I hate the coward.

Is this really what you want? You want me to leave? You want me out of your life?” “Did you hear a word I said?” “Every single one.” “Then you shouldn’t be fighting to stay. You should be running.” “I would, except you left the best part out of your story.” He draws his brows and shakes his head. “Don’t.” “Us. That’s the best part. Our part.

Breaths mingling, chests heaving, we face off as understanding passes between us. “What is it that you want, Tobias?” He pins me beneath him, pressing my wrists to the grass, his hair tickling my chin as he gazes down at me. “A selfish moment,” he whispers softly before he captures my mouth, drawing me into the most damning and selfish of kisses.

Buts it's your heart that I want most, Cecelia, not your beautiful face or your body, it's your heart that I'm drawn to, it's your heart that's the most beautiful thing about you, it's your heart that makes you my most worthy opponent. I regret a lot of shit from back then, a lot, but I don't regret you. I loved you then and now, and I always will.

I move to slap him, and he catches my hand, biting into the flesh of my palm. I can’t hold my whimper as he again thrusts his rock-hard erection against me, the feel of his length against my soaked clit dragging me to the edge. With the next thrust of his hips, I teeter on the brink of orgasm. “Tu ne peux pas échapper à la vérité. Tu me veux.” You can’t escape the truth. You want me.

I don’t look back anymore with resentment. It’s pride I feel now when I remember my time in my parents’ life choice purgatory. It’s not the hard times I think of. It’s hiking with Sean or watching Dominic read, or sipping wine while gazing at fireflies underneath the night sky with Tobias. It’s love I had, and love I took with me. And it’s my greatest strength. It’s my true superpower.

But I see you, Cecelia. I. See. You. You keep trying to give yourself, your heart, your allegiance away to anyone who will have it for reasons you can’t understand, but it’s so painfully clear. Your mother is a selfish narcissist, your father dodged his responsibilities, you feel that my brothers used you and abandoned you, and you’re putting on a brave front all the while you’re fucking dying inside.

After this, you want to watch a movie?” Dominic asks. “You can make that cheddar popcorn I love. We can crowd under that blanket that smells like . . . what’s that smell?” I choke on a fresh wave of fear. “Lavender,” I say as more tears stream down my cheeks. “Yeah. And I’ll let you watch a chick movie because all I really want to do is watch you watch it. Your face gets all dopey when you get love drunk.

mistake, and the danger makes it all worth it. I walked through fucking fire for you. I survived hell for you. You don’t deserve me. You never deserved me, not at all. But I deserve you. I. Deserve. You. But it’s the king I deserve. It’s the king I want.” I clench my fists. “I loved the bastard I met, the thief that stole me, and the king who claimed me, but I refuse to love the coward. I hate the coward.

It’s the truth he lets me see. No amount of lies or contradictory actions on his part can ever take this away. He dips again and takes my mouth, a confession on his tongue, and I meet him kissing him back, telling my own. And it’s then I allow myself to fall, further and further into the biggest secret of my life. A secret I’ve known longer than I will ever admit. I’m falling in love with my enemy. So be it.

I may be leaving, but I’m taking all of them with me. Gunning the car, I shoot toward the highway thankful, thankful to have felt, and experienced love in every degree, for the gift of knowing it, for every memory I’m taking with me. For the love I had and lost, and the burning reminders surrounding me, charred into me, telling me that no, I’ll never be that woman who can let go of the past, but I can take it with me.

I’d give anything to go back, to be braver. I was so scared. I was such a coward, and you died. You died…I never got to tell you how much I loved you. How much you meant to me, how much you changed me. How much I respected you. You were so brave, Dominic, and so strong. I was so privileged to know you. To love you. As much as you tried, you were never a forgettable man. I will miss you every day of my life.” I press my hand to my chest.

Why, why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” I rasp out, utterly helpless to the emotion he’s stirring within me. “C’était trop demander.” It was too much to ask. He stares down at me, hands roaming over every inch of flesh within his reach, his eyes and lips worshiping, his heart pounding against mine, demanding acknowledgment. The kiss turns fevered as our mouths call a truce and begin to make promises we can never speak because if we do, we will no longer be enemies.

I feel it. Every single fucking day, I feel it. You haven’t let me go no more than I have you. I don’t want your forgiveness because you will never have mine. But I’m yours. Whatever parts of my heart they claimed they keep, they have their place with me, but you own the rest. All of it, including my mind, my body, and the fractured remnants of my soul. You’re the victor, and these are your spoils, but you’re too much of a fucking coward to acknowledge it, to accept me, to accept us.

Sounded serious.” “And what is it you think you heard?” “Le pleck, le spit,” I upturn my nose and school my features in my best imitation of a French snob, “le plah, le bark, more spit, and merde.” We glare at each other for a second before he throws his head back and laughs. I completely ignore my urge to smile at the sound of it, instead crossing my arms and cocking my hip. “I’m not fluent. Yet. But watch your back, Frenchman.” His laughter slows and he shakes his head, a chuckle sounding just before his eyes roam me in amusement.

I didn’t know how fucking possessed I was until I saw the way they loved you.” I stand deathly still as he lifts livid eyes to mine. Unexpected calm washes over me. “I’m still yours, Tobias.” He shakes his head, a war raging inside of it. “I was always meant to be yours. You said so yourself before everything went to hell. And they knew it when they saw us together, just like I did, just like you do. That’s why my mind won’t let me forget, that’s why my heart continues to torture me. It doesn’t matter how it happened, but make no mistake, you made it happen.

I’ve finally found my reason to hate you, Tobias.” His eyes snap to mine. “Not because of our past, not because of the way you’ve pushed me away, but because of the way you’re punishing us both—the same way Roman did. Love isn’t an inconvenience, it isn’t a mistake, and the danger makes it all worth it. I walked through fucking fire for you. I survived hell for you. You don’t deserve me. You never deserved me, not at all. But I deserve you. I. Deserve. You. But it’s the king I deserve. It’s the king I want.” I clench my fists. “I loved the bastard I met, the thief that stole me, and the king who claimed me, but I refuse to love the coward. I hate the coward.

Ask me anything,” he whispers, pressing his thumb into the corner of my mouth before tracing my lip as his cinnamon coated hair hangs between us. “Ask me, and I’ll tell you.” “We’re not business anymore,” I whisper, partly a declaration part question. We’re chest to chest as he slowly shakes his head. “No, we’re not.” I can’t bring myself to ask him, and so I don’t. Instead, he leans in and presses his lips to mine before he speaks. “You warned me not to fall in love with you. You said you wouldn’t make room for me.” “You told me you wouldn’t,” I remind him, my soul soaring with his confession. He leans in close, his nose brushing mine. “Then I guess that makes us both lia—

We love rainy days, don’t we, baby?” Dominic’s voice

They say dreams are a way for your subconscious to process things you attempt to avoid in waking hours.

I'm keeping my love story, not because it included both martyr and sacrifice, or because it's the story I wanted, it's because I would never rewrite it. And I would live it all over again just for the chance to sing with him.

After this, you want to watch a movie? You can make that cheddar popcorn I love. We can crowd under that blanket that smells like.... what's that smell?" I choke on a fresh wave of fear. " Lavender," I say as more tears stream down my cheeks. "Yeah. And I'll let you watch a chick movie because all I really want to do is watch you watch it. Your face gets all dopey when you get love drunk.

We love rainy days, don't we, baby?

It takes a queen to love and understand a king. Did you think this would break me? You made me!

It's not a storm, Tobias," I say, looking up at the sky. "It's a blessing.

he’s become more a father figure than my own. My cries die down, and when he tips my chin, I become lost in the licks of tender flames.

Keep on Smilin’” by Wet Willie.

Utter fucking disaster. “I don’t want to fucking leave. I don’t want to argue. I don’t want to hate myself. I don’t want to blame you. I’m tired of being angry at them, but damn them and…damn you, Cecelia, you were never supposed to know them, you were never,” his face twists with fury as my heart seizes, “you were…” He jerks me to stand, pulling me against him, anger rolling off his frame, anguish in his eyes. “Yours. I was always supposed to be yours,” I say as he nods and crushes me with his kiss.

Ce qui te blesse, me blesse.

Es-tu jaloux?” Are you jealous?” “Non.” No. I disregard the uncomfortable and unwelcome sting his quick answer gives. “I was honest with you.” He pulls me to him, my back to his front as he rests his head on my pillow, his warm breath hitting my ear. “So was I. Je ne veux pas n’être qu’une phase pour toi.

You’re The Frenchman.” He replies with a faint dip of his chin. His hostile gaze blistering my skin with contempt. “You mind turning down that fucking calling card?” Each of his words curled by the thick foreign lilt, confirming I knew that much about him.

answer to. Silence lingers between us before the hostile stranger speaks up. “You were never supposed to be here.

And it had everything to do with the man standing in front of me. While we were falling, they were preparing me for the shitstorm that is The Frenchman. His return was inevitable.

In theory,” he says, knowing I’m unwilling to mull over my word choice, “when you take what thieves steal, they can’t exactly file a police report.

Safety truly is an illusion,” I conclude, the rest of my blissful ignorance falling away. He dips his head. “And the most powerful, but once you make peace with it, it’s easier taking bigger risks to seek greater rewards. But that’s no excuse to make a stupid move.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got better things to do than let you dip your finger in my head and stir.

It all trickles from the top. If you think the bad guys are the ones selling dimes on the street, that’s nothing compared to these fucking crooks.

You want to find real criminals? Follow the money. Always follow the fucking money. I’m not saying none of it was earned legitimately, but I’m saying those that did earn it legitimately are grouped with those who didn’t.

But most people are paying attention to Janet Jackson’s halftime nipple peepshow or something similar because it takes the focus away from the real thieves.” “A distraction?” “They create them and at times, pay for them. The media is easily bought or influenced by the same people occupying the same fucking bed, and the world is kind enough to take care of the rest.

Want to know how I’m doing?” I turn my head and glare at him. “Well, you can relay to Sean I now know exactly what happens to caged birds.

Endearment, adoration, devotion, warmth, attachment; also synonyms for love.

The people in my life are walking on eggshells worried about my fragility. It’s then that a sickening thought strikes me. I’m becoming my mother.

An addict. An addict. Am I addicted to the high? If I’m honest, that’s a lot of what I felt when I was with them. They fed it to me at every turn. But then that’s the crux of love, isn’t it? It is very much a high, a high people thrive on. One that can rip your soul apart once you’ve lost it.

I am an addict. I’m the pathetic girl who just can’t take a hint, the one who refuses to let go. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve seen it in the face of every person who looks at me now—the pity and the concern. Their withdrawal has cost me my pride, my self-respect, and the respect of the people who know me. It’s cost me far more than any high is worth. And it’s past time that I remember how to kick…

With this one act, it will break all ties, destroy us, and any lingering hopes I have left. From his side, I’m a threat and he wants me gone, and this is the way of ensuring I have no place, no future amongst them. It’s up to me to stop it from going any further. But I don’t. And I won’t. Because I no longer have a reason to hold on. And because I am an addict. A destitute product of my own imagination, of my own making. Needy. Sick. Insatiable.

He went too far, and I went with him, but for a completely different reason. But I’ll share in the punishment. And I’ll crave my enemy. Because that’s what we are.

And until my time here is served, I’ll allow myself to become my father’s daughter—cold, cruel, deceptive, calculating, and unapologetic. But it’s the acceptance of one thing that truly sets me free. My heart has no place here.

For Tobias, I have no beliefs. He’s the embodiment of a lone wolf. And I’m all too familiar with the phrase ‘a wolf loses little sleep over the opinion of sheep.

Someone’s in a mood.” “Blame it on the hormones rather than the backbone. I guess that’s easier for a sexist like you to believe.

Tu me crains autant que tu me détestes.” You fear me as much as you hate me.

The man is a walking mindfuck.

Clearing my eyes, I peer through the glass door and spot Tobias standing just outside of it, gloriously naked while unmistakable thirst is evident in his expression. The second our eyes connect, all my thoughts fall away as my libido takes the wheel. Might as well enjoy hell together.

You broke her heart, and you should know you were the first man to break mine, too. But at least with her, it was a clean break.” I shake my head, “but you’ve been breaking mine for twenty long years.

It’s there on my father’s front porch, in his nemesis’s arms, that I find solace.

Most all of them are wearing smiles, blissfully unaware that there is a war going on. That beyond some of their trees and state parks, there is a group of men fighting on their behalf so that the local economy can thrive, so the poachers don’t get the best of them.

On sun-filled days I long for Sean, for his smile, his arms, his cock, and the laughter we shared. His warm, salty, nicotine-tinged kisses. The flick of his tongue on my skin. The slow winks he gave me acknowledging he knew what I was thinking. On stormy days, I long for my cloud to cover me, for the kisses that left me wanton, the hard thrashing of a tongue so wicked and smooth, for a half-smile that lights me up inside. For runny eggs and black coffee.

These men took me under their wing, taught by example, stirred my sexuality awake, and made themselves unforgettable. How am I supposed to move on from this?

The story itself would sound like some unrealistic, twisty, sexually provocative fairy-tale with a bad ending or worse, no ending at all.

The battle of good and evil isn’t news. In fact, it’s broadcast in plain sight every day. But at this point, even the news is unreliable, often projected in a way that requires deciphering fact from agenda-related fiction.

But who am I kidding? I invited these criminals into my life, between my legs, and into my heart, and they’ve fucking branded me.

We both know I was never going to make it to thirty, brother. Take care of her. “P-p-lease, G-G-od, p-p-please don’t take them! Please!” I race away with the taste of Dominic’s blood on my lips, coating my hands as I drive past the county line and exit onto the highway toward a future I no longer want.

In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed— But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted.

Seconds after I destroy my wedding dress, reality sets in. I’ll never be free. As long as I dream, and as long as these dreams can destroy me, I’ll never be free.

No matter how much they proclaimed to care for me, I was used by the men in my life in an inexcusable way. I should never have let them have so much power over me. I should have been stronger. I should have fought a lot harder for myself and for what I deserved. I shouldn’t have let them keep so many secrets from me.

I pray now, Dom. Often and for you. Sometimes I pray selfishly, but just for the chance to see your face in my dreams. You never let me see you, not fully. A hint of your profile here and there, but it’s not enough,” I choke on the words, “but I keep trying. I keep chasing after you.” I’m convinced I haven’t seen him fully because I haven’t voiced the one thing I want so desperately to ask him for. And the hardest part, I know the answer is up to me. “Please, if you can, let me see you,

He seems to consider most things an experience, not music, but a single song, not food, but a feast, not wine but a tasting. And sex, that he takes even more seriously. For him, it’s an art form, and one he’s mastered beautifully.

It’s always been up to me to sink or swim. And I’ve been in the deep end for years without an inch of cement to grab onto while the kick slowly drained from me.

I have no issue with rock bottom. I’m comfortable here. On the rocks might be the safest place for me for the moment, much safer than walking around lying recklessly to those I love.

I’ve faced the boogeyman, hell, I fell in love with him and survived. I survived a lot more than that.

Cee, what is happening right now? Is this some sort of cry for help?” I grin, shaking my head like a lunatic, letting the music fuel me. “We’re waking up ghosts, Rye, and it’s way too late for help.

Oh, how he fucks with me just by existing.

Our connection is in our chemical makeup, an unexplainable bond. It was our undoing years ago, and it ate us alive. It’s every bit as strong now. It’s so easy to put my finger on the why of us when every part of me is buzzing in awareness.

Coming here was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made because seeing him again has wrecked both me and my chances. I still feel it, every ounce of it. The truth will never set me free. I’m not in love with a memory. I’m still in love with the man standing in front of me. And that truth unleashes an anger inside me that’s been building for years.

You’re a pig.” “I know. My penis has not been faithful to you. When it gets hurt, it has a tendency to self-sabotage. Feel better?” “Kind of.

That wasn’t scary at all,” Ryan speaks up next to me. “Should I expect to see a bloody, decapitated horse head in my hotel bed in the morning?

You have the perfect husband.” “He left the toilet seat up last night and didn’t flush. I fell into the toilet and woke up both my children, and we all screamed until dawn. I’m still not talking to him.

I do love Collin, just not the way I love him.” “It’s unhealthy.” “I know.” “That man has caused you nothing but pain.” “I know.” “He wrecked you.” “I know. And when I saw him today, I swear to God, my whole body lit up. I didn’t imagine it, Christy, none of it.