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I shook my head, embarrassed, while the guys snorted and laughed, and the girls mooned. “One day, these kids down my street caught me carrying the bear around, and they started making fun of me. Calling me a pussy, a baby, looking at me like I was a freak. So I threw the bear in the trash. But that night, I went back out and got it again. The next day, I tried burying it in a box in the attic.”

I looked to Tate again. Her eyes were on me, and she was listening, so I kept going.

“Maybe if I knew it was near, but not gone, then I’d be able to live without it. But that didn’t work either. So after a few days of failing to sleep on my own, to be strong without the stupid animal, I decided to massacre it. If it was beyond repair, then it would be useless to me. I’d have to get by. There wouldn’t be any choice.”

Tate.

“So I took some garden sheers and chopped it to pieces. Cut off the legs. Memories gone. Snip off the arms. Attachment gone. Throw it in the trash. Weakness…gone.”

I looked down, and my voice cracked, remembering how I’d felt like someone had died when I did that.

“I cried the whole first night,” I added, taking a deep breath and clearing the ache in my throat. “It wasn’t until two years later that I found something that I loved more than Henry. I met a girl who became my best friend. So much so, that I even wanted her by me at night. I’d sneak into her room, and we’d fall asleep together. I didn’t need her so much as she just became a part of me. I was wanted, loved, and accepted.”

My eyes were only on Tate now. She was planted in her seat, completely still.

“She’d look at me, and I’d stop dead in my tracks, never wanting to leave that moment. Do you know what that’s like?” I scanned the audience. “Day in and day out, you’re thrilled to be alive and experience a million moments of love and happiness that constantly compete with each other. Every day was better than the last.”

Shit got blurry, and I realized I was tearing up, but I didn’t care.

“But just like Henry,” my voice got strong again, “I concluded that my attachment to her made me weak. I thought I wasn’t strong enough if I needed anything or anyone, so I let her go.” I shook my head. “No, I pushed her, actually. Away. Out. Over the edge.”

“I abused her. Cut her to pieces, so our friendship would be beyond repair.” Just like the bear. “I called her names, spread rumors to get people to hate her, kicked her out and isolated her. I hurt her, not because I hated her, but because I hated that I wasn’t strong enough to not love her.”

The whole room was as silent as a graveyard. People who had laughed, weren’t laughing anymore. People who weren’t paying attention, were now.

“Now, I could go on about mommy didn’t love me and daddy hit me, but who doesn’t have a story, right?” I asked. “There are times when we can blame a situation on others, but we own our reactions to them. There comes a point where we are the ones responsible for our choices and excuses don’t carry weight anymore.”

I’d just aired my business to the whole school. They knew I was a bully. A jerk. But the only good opinion I needed was hers.

Descending the stairs, mic in hand, I walked up the aisle towards my girl.

And I spoke only to her.

“I can’t change the past, Tate. I wish I could, because I’d go back and relive every day that I existed without you, and I’d make sure that you smiled.” My eyes burned with regret, and I saw the pools in her beautiful blues, too. “Every minute of my future belongs to you.”

I crouched down next to her chair, thankful to see my world back in her eyes, and placed one knee on the floor.

“I’ll do anything to be good for you, Tate.”

Leaning into me, she buried her face in my neck, shaking with the release of her tears. I breathed her in and wrapped my arms around her.

This was it.

Home.

“Anything, baby,” I promised.

She leaned back and wiped her eyes with her thumb, sobbing and smiling at the same time.

“Anything?” she laughed out, her eyes bright with happiness and love.

I nodded.

Her forehead pressed into mine as she held my face in her hands and asked, “Have you ever considered a nipple piercing?”

Oh, for Christ’s sake.

I choked out a laugh and kissed her hard, much to the pleasure of the roaring crowd around us.

Such a handful.

Bully poem

You’re poisonous, toxic, bad for my health.

You’re greedy, sly, way too stealth.

You hurt me, use me, mistreat and abuse me.

But your apologetic eyes,

As you tell your lies,

Draw me back in,

And I forgive every sin.

I take you back,

Your love is my crack.

I’m clearly a masochist,

You’re my personal terrorist.

My tormentor,

My lover,

My bully,

My friend.

Acknowledgements

To my husband—Honey, you deserve a lot of “cuddle” time for putting up with me during this book. Honestly, it was the massages. Your hands are the reason poetry is written, and I have no idea how I would’ve handled a full time job and writing this book without your tender love and care.

To Bekke, my friend and editor, who did not dole out her good opinion easily or quickly. You kept me on my toes and told me the truth. I hope I can return the favor soon!

To Ing, Marilyn, and Tee Tate who became the best friends I never met. Your help with BULLY and UNTIL YOU has been invaluable towards the books’ success, and I hope we get to come together soon for a drink or five.

To Sherelle Ross who was gracious enough to let me include her poetry in my book. I am beyond excited that my ideas inspire your art, and I hope we continue to work together!

To ALL of the amazing bloggers who read and reviewed BULLY! Oh-Em-Gee! You are the life blood behind my works’ success, and I cannot say enough of how grateful I am for the support, the reviews, and the shout outs. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

To all of the readers out there—When I wrote BULLY I had no idea what a blog tour or release week blitz was, and I had done absolutely no promoting. I was an avid reader who decided to write a book and lucky enough to have a friend to help edit. One day, I hit PUBLISH, but no one knew that BULLY was coming. I thought fifty people would read it, and then it would get lost in eBook limbo.

But you read it. You reviewed it, commented and messaged me about it, and encouraged others to read it. I read every comment, every message, and I look at almost every review. Your feedback is important, and I hope you will do me the same courtesy again this time of leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, and/or your other preferred retailers.

It is the best gift you can give an author!

Playlist

Music helps inspire the development of my characters. Jared is angry, dangerous, and you’ll either want him far away from you or all over you. The songs on this list are Jared.

Criticize-Adelita’s Way

Coming Down-Five Finger Death Punch

Adrenalize-In This Moment

Cold-Crossfade

Love-Hate-Sex-Pain-Godsmack

Heaven Nor Hell-Volbeat

I Don’t Care-Apocalyptica