Wretched Emily Mcintire Quotes

But if I’m her calm, then she is my chaos, and if I can’t live with her forever, then I don’t want to live at all.

the only love you can count on is the way you love yourself.

Grief is a weird thing. It’s the only emotion in the world people claim to understand yet treat as an inconvenience.

He doesn’t have much, but he does have the fucking audacity.

Words were my calm in a life filled with chaos.

If you were like her, then there wouldn’t be a you.

There’s no one like family, Evie, and there’s no place like home. We have to stick together.

She takes a sip of her tea. “I get it, dude. Love fucking sucks.” “How do you know it’s real?” I whisper, stomach twisting.   “Does it hurt?” “Like a bitch.” She smacks her lips. “Then it’s real.

Bricks are meant for paths,  Yet somehow we’re always still.  If there’s nothing for us in the now,  Then I know there never will.  You belong up here in the light,  and me, in poppies down below.  Maybe one day we’ll meet again,  On the other side of a rainbow.

She’s changing me. Or maybe she’s simply making me feel alive.

He was the king of pretty words, so now I’ll make him king of the ashes.    The fire burns quickly, and then goes out when there’s nothing left.  Here lies one whose name was writ in water.

All I knew was that I couldn’t let her fall. And maybe that makes me stupid, maybe it makes me weak. Maybe she’s manipulated me into becoming something I never wanted to be. Whatever the case, I don’t care. Because she’s changed me fundamentally. Irrevocably. And there’s no going back. I don’t love Eveline in spite of her flaws. I love her because of them.

The tension swirling around our bodies is overwhelming, and I don’t know what it is I’m feeling, only that nothing else has ever felt like it. Opening her eyes, she twists in my arms to look up at my face.

I just want to be left the hell alone.

We’re all just out here living, you know? Roaming under clouds that are a thousand different shades of gray. But you can’t help who you love, Nick.

I think,” I say carefully, “the only love you can count on is the way you love yourself.

You don’t have to trust me, Evelina. But words are your safe space, the same way that they’re mine.” My fingers thread through his hair. “Let me be your calm in the chaos, pretty girl.

Brayden,” she murmurs. I freeze, my chest splitting down the middle and falling to the floor.  Brayden. She’s Brayden’s. Which means she’ll never be mine.

She’s overwhelming. Devastating. She’s going to ruin my fucking life.

When he’s this close, it’s impossible to not smell the cinnamon and pine, and with every inhale, arousal digs its dirty claws into me further.

Yeah, well, unfortunately for him, I like to fuck, not get fucked.

Tell me to sit and eat like a good boy, and I swear to fucking god I’ll do it.

Grief is a weird thing. It’s the only emotion in the world people claim to understand yet treat as an inconvenience. “Time heals all wounds, Evie.” Spare me.

She takes a sip of her tea. “I get it, dude. Love fucking sucks.” “How do you know it’s real?” I whisper, stomach twisting. “Does it hurt?” “Like a bitch.” She smacks her lips. “Then it’s real.

I’ve never thought about the word much, but the guilt I feel for every single thing involving Eveline is a tornado, whirling quick and strong, destroying everything it touches. And then it compounds because I know, without a doubt, if I went back and had a chance to do it all over, I wouldn’t change a thing.

This feels different. This feels like more.  Rough and messy and a thousand different shades of wrong.  But if I’m her calm, then she is my chaos, and if I can’t live with her forever, then I don’t want to live at all.

That weird feeling surges up my throat again.  Grief. Sometimes it’s fluid, like waves of the ocean, and sometimes it’s stagnant like sculptures carved in stone. Right now, it’s rock solid and heavy in the center of my chest.

Grief is a weird thing. It’s the only emotion in the world people claim to understand yet treat as an inconvenience. “Time heals all wounds, Evie.” Spare me. Time heals nothing. Just gives things more space to grow and fester and rot.

Words were my calm in a life filled with chaos

We’re all just out here living, you know? Roaming under clouds that are a thousand different shades of gray.

He purses his lips. “You’ll go with her. Be her muscle, have her back, and continue learning the ropes at the same time. Got it?

Yeah, starting to burn? That’s hydrofluoric acid for you. Do you want to know what it’s doing as it melts through your skin? It has fluoride ions that migrate through the body, destroying tissue until it lodges in your bones.

He reaches up and grabs my wrists, pulling them so they’re locked in his grip and moving them until they’re pinned above my head. He leans in, skimming his nose up the side of my neck, making goose bumps spread down the length of my spine.

yellow brick pathway,

twisted,

A beautiful woman with shiny brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail, designer clothes dripping from her body. “That’s Dorothy Westerly, Farrell’s kid.

A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.

Time heals all wounds, Evie.

You belong up here in the light, and me in poppies down below. Maybe one day we’ll meet again, On the other side of a rainbow.

After you’re done with whatever you really came here for, you should do the same. Maybe a good fuck will make you lose that giant stick up your ass.

I don’t want to stalk you, pretty girl.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want to fuck you.

I grip his cheeks tight, dropping the bag and bringing the flat of the knife up to cover his mouth. “Swallow.

Flesh stays no further reason than rising at thy name,

I’m already at my limit for “peopling,” and I’m desperate for some solitude after the past few days of doing nothing except being around others.

I can’t say my morals are upstanding, but I am loyal to a fault if you deserve it. It’s just that most people don’t.

Figuring out who you are means knowing every part and accepting every part, no matter what other people may think.

I don’t love Eveline in spite of her flaws. I love her because of them.

If we can't joke about the past, we'll never move on.

What other people think of me is none of my business.

He was the king of pretty words, so now I’ll make him king of the ashes.

I didn't know that I could love until you. And you're not perfect, okay? You piss me off and you do things I never thought I'd be alright with, and you're moody as hell. You're actually the furthest fucking thing from perfect l've ever seen. But Eveline... you're perfect for me.

Are you quoting Shakespeare to my pussy?

The best criminals are the ones who you’d never suspect. They’re the ones you make jokes with, the ones you learn to trust, the ones who become your best friend while they stab you in the back and steal everything out from under you.

Benny Anderson is a short man with an attitude.

Evelina has years of wounds that haven’t been healed, just bandaged with sarcasm and sadness. Mutilated with scar tissue that still oozes when pricked.

I press a soft kiss to the small freckle on her left shoulder and remove my jacket, draping it over her. Then I cage her in, my body surrounding her and my hands resting on the railing.

Don’t be afraid,” I whisper, the wind sending a strong gust of air whipping around us, making her shiver. “I’ve got you.” She sucks in a breath, moving her gaze back to me. “Promise?

Mascara streaks down her cheeks, black tears reflecting the stains marred on her soul. And through everything, she’s still the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.

The only thing that matters is her.

And maybe my morals are dulled when it comes to her. Because as long as she’s taken care of, it’s hard for me to give a damn what happens to anyone else. I lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead, breathing in her earthy, floral scent.

I just feel content knowing I kept the woman I love safe.

My heart skips and stutters, then starts beating in a steady rhythm. And with that single smile, I know I’ve made it home.

Don’t get mad at me for refusing to play into some made-up fairy-tale emotion.

Love.” I shrug. “It’s fake. Just a chemical reaction that people pretend is more.

It’s the only emotion in the world people claim to understand yet treat as an inconvenience. “Time heals all wounds, Evie.” Spare me. Time heals nothing. Just gives things more space to grow and fester and rot.

I’m angry at Nessa for getting herself killed. And I’m angry at Dorothy for killing her.

this close, the dark browns swirl with yellow and a dash of green, creating a kaleidoscope of color so deep and fucking beautiful they suck me in and drag me under like quicksand.

I lift a brow, surprised by her tender touch, so at odds with the wall she erects anytime she’s near me. “Didn’t realize you cared so much, sweetheart.

Pressing my fingers into her skin, I move my face back to hers, pressing kisses along her cheek until I reach her ear. “Don’t tell me what to do.

See, what Dorothy doesn’t realize—what nobody else knows—is while our father may be the face of the family business, he’s not the brains. He needs me for that. So she may have his attention and get showered in his love, but she doesn’t truly have his favor. I do. And it starts right here, in my greenhouse full of poppies.

Just because you think something doesn’t make it true.

And real emeralds have flaws, sweetheart. Just like the rest of us.

my pretty girl is not this black-haired chick with piercings that cover the length of her ears and brown eyes that stare so deep they char my skin.

The best criminals are the ones who you’d never suspect.

My gaze trails along her figure, drinking her in like she’s water in the desert.

His brows rise. “Oh? Looking for love, pretty girl?

Good witches help people, but I don’t really feel like helping her. Or anyone, for that matter.

It’s cute he’s defending my honor, even though he’s called me worse himself.

Maybe she’s more rattled from tonight than she let on. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part, desperately trying to seek a shred of humanity lurking somewhere beneath her dark and violent depths.

Instead, I soak in how effortlessly beautiful she is. But her beauty is a mirage, a trick of the light. It sucks you in and gives you comfort, only to turn ugly when you peer beneath the surface.

Peers at me like she’s trying to sink under my skin and dig up the buried parts. It makes me itch, and I fidget, my fingers pressing in tightly on her waist.

My chest throbs with stuttered beats as I stare at her small hand and the way it fits so perfectly in mine.

My hand shoots out before I can think twice, and I cup her jaw, my thumb rubbing across her pouty lip, sparks flying through my fingers. “Jesus, pretty girl. You could ruin lives with a smile like that.

Maybe it’s because I’m trying like hell to find the girl inside the monster, the one she’s trying so desperately to hide.

I just want to talk to the girl beneath the mask. The one who smiles so big it softens her eyes and lets me whisper sonnets against her skin.

I lie with her, and she with me.

And in our faults by lies we flattered be.

when he touches me, it soothes the sting.

I rest my face against his chest as he presses a kiss against the top of my head, and I feel… content.

That I would give it all up in a heartbeat if I could stay like that forever.

I started listening to him instead of myself. Like Pavlov’s dog, he trained me effortlessly to accept the bare minimum. To crave the back-and-forth, the animosity morphing into excitement whenever he was near simply because he paid me some attention.

No matter where I go in life, Nessa, no matter who I love and lose… I think I’ll always miss you the most.

bruschetta-wrapped bacon

Time heals nothing. Just gives things more space to grow and fester and rot.

Grief is a weird thing. It´s the only emotion in the world people claim to understand yettreat as an inconvenience.

A woman can be great, and terrible too.