The Bleeding Hearts

How did I get here? Broken, bruised, and mentally shattered. For most of my life, my older stepbrother, Shay, was my hero, my rock, and my best friend. The one I knew I could always rely on. For many years, I accepted everyone and everything around me. But as I grew up, the veil was lifted, and I slowly came to understand how f*cked up it all really is.

Torment: Part Two is a dark, taboo, MC, contemporary romance. My dreams are gone. I’m trapped, controlled, and defeated. I made a deal that I have to stick to, if I want to keep everyone-including myself-safe. Shay has given me an ultimatum; be his or someone I love will pay the price. I’ve...

Twice now my life has been altered by the choice of someone else. The first time I was ten; when my mom got married she moved us into a better neighborhood, which meant I had to leave behind everything and everyone I loved. The second time was six years later; when someone made the choice to drive instead of calling a cab, my life was once again altered and I had to move back to the place I left. Harley had always been a bad neighborhood, but things had gotten so much worse. No one should walk down the streets alone after dark, and gangs ruled everything, including the classrooms.

I am the dark notes of a song, The shadows at your back, The tears that fall from your eyes, The cool touch of the blade at your throat, The hot, burning bullet that pierces your skull. I am the writer of this story, I am the guide. The Director. I have led the pieces to their place on the board...

I have a great life. Loving parents, siblings that I adore. I’ve never gone hungry, or known physical pain. I’ve suffered no trauma… And yet there is another side of me that is… different. Where I wander, a shadow follows, something haunting and dark. It settles around my shoulders like a cloak, speaks to me when I’m alone, stares back at me from the mirror. My dark wavy hair, my silver eyes… they are reminders of him. I am cursed. I am tainted. I don’t want to succumb to the urges that strike me. The impulses that scare me. I don’t want to be like him.