#Chapter17
Which sounded a lot like bullshit to me — except something about his words scratched at something too damn familiar in the back of my head. The words 'You can be my Daddy if you want to be' resonated. Refusing to accept it as anything but the mambo-jumbo, fucked up voodoo of the freak, I scowled and spun on my heels, storming out. Swimming among the haze, my mind had been firing too slow to concoct a valid counter-argument.
He called after me, but otherwise let me go. There was part of me that wanted to find another brick, or rock, or whateverfucking debris that I could, and put it through his other window, but the logical voice that sometimes took over from the violent devil on my shoulder warned me that he wouldn't be so forgiving the second time around.
