"This isn't over," I said. "After everything we've been through, you don't get the right to brush me off. I'm not letting you off that easily." I wasn't sure if it was a threat, my last stab at defiance, or irrational words spoken straight from my splintered heart. "I want to protect you," Patch said quietly. He stood so close. All strength and heat and silent power. I couldn't escape him, now or ever. He'd always be there, consuming my every thought, my heart locked in his hands. I was drawn to him by forces I couldn't control, let alone escape. "But you didn't".

Who wants to kill you?” the guy asked. He was still looking over his shoulder, but his expression was puzzled. “There’s nobody there,” the girlfriend told me. “You’re making them think they can’t see you, aren’t you?” I said to Patch, awed by his power even as I despised his use of it.

Something doesn't look right," Vee said. "Is the tire supposed to look like that?" I banged my head against the nearest tree trunk. "So we've got a flat," Vee said. "What now?

The older woman waiting for admittance looked at me, then over her shoulder at Patch, who was vanishing down the hall. “Honey,” she told me, “he looks slippery as soap.

Let me show you,” he said in my ear. “Like this. Feel that? Relax. Now pivot your hips—it’s all in the hips.

Before I could stop myself, I punched his arm. “Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might think we’re flirting.

Vee never needed a reason to do something stupid. Sad thing was, most of the time I didn't either.