He didn't know what else to do, how to comfort her, so he simply held her, held the only person in the world who had ever cried for him

I love you,” she whispered. He stroked his hand down her back. “Yep, you do.” “You’re supposed to say it back,” she said, pretending to be offended because the silliness kept the fear/hope at bay. “Why?” He scowled down at her. “You know you’re my heartbeat.

Truth was a tool. It should never simply be said. No, it had to be bent, twisted, colored, until it became a weapon.

We fit, you and I,” he whispered looking into that haunting gaze. “Two broken pieces making a whole.

If you don’t need my backsight,” she said to Kaleb, “then why am I here?” He rose to his feet and, placing his hands on the table, leaned toward her until she could’ve reached out and run her fingers along his freshly shaven jaw. “You are here,” he said in a tone that made her heart thump wildly against her ribs, “because you belong to me.

Mercy laughed. “You have to excuse them—boys suffer from an incurable disability.” “What?” “Testosterone.

When the kid began to flag, Riley picked her up, swung her onto his back, and kept running. The leopard in Mercy growled in approval - whatever his faults (and they were many and legend), Riley knew how to take care of the innocent.