Once I loved Grace, really loved her.
And she loved me, and it was so fucking beautiful.
That pendulum swings to and fro.
and then we’re--
How can that rare beautiful be rendered irrelevant, intangible when I still feel so damn much?
Does all that energy, that glory, that significance simply dissolve?
Turn to smoke?
It can’t. It just can’t.
Are the moments that shape us absolutely random?
Is time not fluid?
I made promises to them, to her.
Especially to her.
Promises I still burn to keep.
I wasn't expecting to love Dig as much as I do Miller, but reading his story from his POV makes everything he did make more sense. Under all that leather and grit, was a knight in shining armour for the damaged souls he came across. He couldn't save his family, so he was able to save a few others when he could. This story brought me to tears. I won't give a spoiler away, but Cat Porter blew me away with the "surprise" that I didn't see coming. Awesome!
And because I am totally addicted now, I'm moving right on to book 3 and Boner.......