Garrett felt like s**t. He’d had trouble sleeping last night. Part of it was that he’d kept waking up with his arms around Kelsey and hers around him, thinking what a lucky bastard he was to have a woman like this in bed beside him. Not just in a physical sense — he’d meant what he’d said about Kelsey being her mother’s daughter. Brave, intelligent, kind. But part of it was that whenever memories of his mother got dragged up, he slept like s**t. He’s dreamed of being cold — of lying in bed shivering because the heat had been shut off. His mom had refused to pay the bill, using the money for drugs instead.
He’d dreamed of pain — of the crack of a belt over his hipbone. The leather lashing around his upper arm.
Bullshit.
I don’t think about that anymore. I shouldn’t have f*****g stayed as
