I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower." He grinned, hopping off the bike. "Now that is an invitation.

When I'm wasted, I can almost forget who I am," he said, his smile fading slightly. "I know I'm still there, but only barely. It's a good place to be." He tipped back the thermos, eyes on the dark sea straight ahead

Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside.

He gave Marcie a spare to the Jeep—I should park this thing in the ocean, twenty feet under.

He was abominable...and the most alluring, tortured soul I'd ever met.

You can call me Patch. No really. Call me.

Religion?" I asked more firmly. Patch dragged a hand thoughtfully along the line of his jaw. "Not religion ... cult." "You belong to a cult?" I realized too late that while I sounded surprised, I shouldn't have. "As it turns out, I'm in need of a healthy female sacrifice. I'd planned on luring her into trusting me first, but if you're ready now...