We only make it about as far as the back curtain, sliding into the darkness near the bathrooms with a rush of breath and a few gasps. I drop Sydney to her feet and slam her into the wall with a groan, fumbling at her dress, pressing my erection against her firm body. She's just ... killer. Absolutely killer."I don't know you, but I want to slam you into this wall and fuck the shit out of you. Explain.

Anger without an outlet is a dangerous, dangerous thing.

I want to be buried in those depths in an unmarked grave. I want to get lost in the gray fog of his gaze and never find my way home. I seriously almost fucking swoon. And how often does that happen? Yeah, never.

Secrets are secrets, but if it comes to choosing life or death, then I'm not taking them to the grave.