He didn't want Lucy to grow up feeling alone, surrounded by everything and having nothing.

I do so like all-encompassing words. Verb, adjective, noun. Yes, you are shitted.

The car picked up speed, and the sound seemed to lull me.I could relax, I thought as I felt the tingling of circulation in my limbs. I was in Trent’s car, wrapped in a blanket, and held in his arms. He wouldn’t let anything hurt me. He wasn’t singing, though,I mused.Shouldn’t he be singing?

Get your hand off me,” I exclaimed, voice loud with misplaced anger as I yanked away from his grip. “I’m a professional, not some distraught girlfriend.” Well, I was that too, but I knew how to act at a crime scene.

All I'd have to do then was roll with the consequences of inviting dewinged, fanged fairies into Trent's backyard. God, they were savage looking. Served him right.

Hate is all that keeps us alive when love is gone. You’re almost there. Not quite ready to let it go yet.

You cannot thrash the person who makes you coffee. It's a rule somewhere.