All That Is Mine I Carry With Me Novels & Stories

"Did. You. Fuck. Him?" I throw my hands up in defiance, my voice rising to a shout. "What do you care, Logan? Why does it matter to you?" But before I can continue, he cuts me off, his words dripping with possessiveness. "You. Are. Mine. Nadine," he declares, his voice low and menacing. "And no man, I repeat, NO MAN dares to take what is mine." His gaze bores into mine, sending a chill down my spine as he emphasizes his claim.

His hand finds the small of my back. And we just stay like that. Not because we’re fine. But because we’re not. Because healing takes time. Because we can’t rush this. “Do you still want the Mine?” I whisper after a moment. He’s quiet for a beat. Then— “It’s mine.” His voice is calm. Not possessive. Not proud. Just certain. “It’s the last piece of me they didn’t take,” he says. “And I’m not handing it over now.” I nod.

said Sherly sincerely. "I love you more. You are only mine, and I would risk anything to protect what is mine, it will always be that way."

I said. “Easy for you to say. The Lord is fond of you so he won't kill you but me and Jacob are different. One mistake and we're dead meat.” “Even if you die, trust me, you're not meat.” Bosvana eyes widened, “Y-you—” “—Bosvana,” I smiled, “It will just be a minute, I promise.” I grabbed a bowl of fresh carrots filled with water and took a bite of it before heading out of the kitchen. The backyard led to the beach directly so i decided to take that route.

I wasn’t expecting that. “But now,” he said as he moved his hand up to my cheek and caressed it while looking at that moment of his hand. “I have you. And I will not let you go. Every time I lose someone is because of my negligence and I won’t lose you. If I have to be selfish for you, then so be it. You are mine, Carla. And you should come to terms with it because I’ll only let you go over my dead body.” He leaned in and captured my lips.

He says with a small smile and weakly squeezes my hand. “What can I do for you to make you feel better?” “Read to me.” He gestures to a book on his nightstand. “I always liked your voice. Read to me, for the first time.” “And for the last time.” I say. I take the book and clear my throat, getting ready to read. There is just one page left so I read, “As I lie here, waiting for the time I leave this world, what I carry with me are not the memories of the battles I fought and won, it isn’t the power I had in my hands, it isn’t the titles I earned. No. what I carry with me are the memories of the people, my people. The friends I loved and lost, the girl I had and lost, the people I had and push

It's one of his things that I hadn't packed away. I remember it dangling by the side of his backpack. Its images spread into countless pictures in my mind. " I didn't know I would have to say goodbye like this. It feels like I have failed you already," I soliloquized, rubbing a finger over it. " I wish I could say sorry to you in person. To Christian. Hopefully, if there's another lifetime, you will both have a better mother." Around sundown, I watched the columns of smoke rise and mix with the air. His clothes burned in a polychrome flame. Green. Red. Blue. As it gradually died, the key holder dampened in my palm. Everything is gone. Everything except this.

When he answered, his voice was low enough to feel against my skin. “Your cross is mine to carry.” Everything in me went still. Not because the words were loud. Because they were absolute. Possessive. Tender. Terrifying in how completely they left no room for distance. He was not offering help in the vague way men did when they wanted gratitude more than burden. He was claiming the weight. Not stealing it from me. Sharing it so completely it no longer belonged to me alone. Your cross is mine to carry.

I must have packed and unpacked my bag only to repack it two minutes later. By the time night came, I thought I had gone insane and was racing around the house like a jacked-up Chihuahua. It didn't help when I got this text message after the thousandth time of unpacking my bag. -Be there in ten minutes. Be ready, sub.-

I zip up my fly, trying to wipe the blood from my thoughts. My hands tremble as I take off my shirt, wrap it around my ex-virgin, and carefully lift her into my arms. "Why, Tim?" she tries to resist. "Quiet, girl," I interrupt. "I have a rule: Everything that is mine stays with me." It quiets down. I carry her to the car. Now she is definitely mine, although I haven't decided if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Yes, Frost. You hit rock bottom today.