I want you, Kaylee, like I’ve never wanted anything. Ever. I want the fire. I want the heat, and the light, and I want the burn.

There was just no good way for a dead son to greet his mother almost two weeks after his funeral.

"No, you should stay right where you are, or my estranged brother and I will settle our difference by seeing who can break more of your bones." Tod glanced at him, brows raised. "You want to settle our differences?" Nash frowned. "No, I want to break every bone in his body, and I didn't think you'd let me do it alone." Tod nodded. "Good call."

The school sent you flowers. I’m sure that totally makes up for the fact that they hired the psychotic, soul-stealing pedophile who murdered you in your own home.

I liked that about her. I liked how laid back she was, when she wasn’t trying to stab me.

Why is this so hard?” I whispered. His pulse leaped crazily at my admission. “Everything worth fighting for is hard.

Sorry doesn’t mean anything! Not when you’re still with him. It’s not just that you cheated—it’s that he’s still here, and you’re still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop this. I can’t think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You’re shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it’s killing me, Faythe. You’re killing me. And it’s only going to get worse, now that everyone knows.