You Bet Your Grannie's Panties I Will.

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?

You Cannot Thrash The Person Who Makes You Coffee. It's A Rule Somewhere.

Trent, Do You Have Any Weapons? Like A Gun?” He Looked At Me In Disgust. “you’re Here To Protect Me,” He Said As He Closed The Distance Between Us And Stood Beside Me. “you Didn’t Bring A Weapon?” “yeah, I Brought A Weapon,” I Snapped As I Brought My Splat Gun Out And Aimed It At The Ceiling Where The Sounds Were Coming From. “i Just Thought That Since You’re A Freaking Murderer You Might Have A Gun, Too (...)

You Should Be Dead," He Said, His Voice Full Of Wonder. "how Is It That You're Still Alive?" Jaw Clenched, I Worked At His Grip On Me, Trying To Get My Fingers Between Him And My Wrist. "i Work Hard At It.

I’d Given Up On The White Picket Fence After Kisten Had Died—finding Out My Kids Would Be Demons Was The Nail In The Coffin.