Dear Diamond
We'd gone into the federal penitentiary together, and we had come out the same way.
"Shots." Cherry lifted a tray over our heads and made her way to the table we circled. "JŠgerbombs."
I'd just picked up a glass and raised my hand to toast the groom when the lights went out. Music played in the pitch-black room, and the second the bass drum pounded a beat, pinpricks of light circled the walls and ceiling. The Pretty Reckless song "Make Me Wanna Die" came through the speakers, and the moment a spotlight hit the girl on stage, everything else in the room ceased to exist. She was every bit as fierce as Taylor Momsen, only younger with edgy brown hair and a thin frame. Whoever the chick was, she
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