Comfort Food

But I know I need him. And I hope he needs me. What we have is fucked up and twisted, but it serves a need.

I had been free and I'd walked right back into my cage. I'd begged and fought to be let in, and the entire time I'd been playing his game exactly the way he wanted it played. I hadn't convinced him to keep me. He'd always intended on me coming back to him. Just one more damning choice.

I came to trust him more than I'd ever trusted anyone. Because even if he was a monster, he followed his own rules. And he was my monster.

I'm strong, but anyone can be broken. I knew this. It's only a matter of opportunity, will, and persistence.

Hated myself enough that had my hands been free and a razor been nearby, I might have pressed the blade into my skin and bled out right there in front of him.

There was always that one-in-a-million reason for some woman to go apeshit psycho on you.