Love is Liz (LiL, #2)

Love is Liz (LiL, #2)

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"In the tiny space between our bodies lived an unspoken rule. If one of us broke that rule there was no saying what would happen." For the last twelve years, my life hadn't been anything but depressing chaos. A nightmare I couldn't wake up from. I'd done lots of stuff I wasn't proud of. The drugs, the smoking, the alcohol, the many, many girls. Not one of those coping mechanisms was much of a success. But the drugs weren't the only thing toxic. Once started, forcing myself to stop wasn't as easy as I'd first anticipated. I'd become addicted. Then there was her. My Bee. My precious, tough girl. She became my new addiction. One I couldn't live without. One I craved more than any other drug that was available. One I desired more than any other girl that threw herself at me. Getting my next fix, however, was a complicated task to achieve. She didn't belong to me and she certainly wasn't like those other girls that craved my attention. However, if I knew one thing about being an addict it's that you would do literally anything to get your next fix. And I craved her more than any drug I'd been using before. ~Love is Liz is the sequel to Life is Liz so I would advise you to read the first book before jumping into this one. ~ Trigger Warning!
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DIABOLIC SERIES 3 All my life I've lost my breath. It would happen over the simplest things, if I stretched too high to catch a ball, lifted something for too long, if I sneezed, if I talked. Other times I would loose my breath because I had a panic attack, or was yelling or being yelled at, if I was exerting myself on a physical level. Having the wind knocked out of me is a familiar feeling. But I didn't truly know what it felt like to loose the air in my lungs, loose the feeling that has kept my alive my entire life. I didn't loose it when I fell in love, I didn't loose it when I found out one drunken night with the girl I love would mean a baby, I didn't loose it when I found out that I'd actually be a father. No, I lost that when she told me that she doesn't love me. When she spit in my face how much she can't stand me, how I've ruined her life, that she doesn't want me in any aspect. I'm not her 'type' whatever that means, seeing as she quite willingly had sex with me. Her saying this made this ugly, lonely and depressing thought hit my diaphragm. Violet Thompson is carrying my child. And she despises me for it. The way I came to this conclusion was simple, Nonnie- -that's what I call her, since her middle name's Noel and I wanted something to call her that if I shouted it in the middle of a crowd, only she would turn to and know it's me- -told me that all she wants is someone there. A father for her baby, a physical presence. Not a mind, personality. Not a person. A body. A shell. I've been a dead man walking. And I was that shell, was just a body... until I found him.

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