Their Beautiful Madness
His voice drops to a murmur, "Shhh, doll face. It's going to be okay, I got you."
I sniff and my words spill out between sobs. "How could he do that? You should've seen his face, Atticus. He wanted to kill me. He just—" My voice cracks. "He just threw me away like I was nothing to him."
His hand comes up, rough fingers catching my chin and tilting my face toward him. I can't look away, not when those dark eyes bore into mine. But the sight cuts me open because I don't just see Atticus. I see Silas too. The same bone structure, the same sharp jawline, the same damn eyes.
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