“He was so full of life and confidence part of me wanted to slap him. But another part wanted to let him show me how to feel like that. That part made me want to slap myself.”

“When he sees me, he stops.His eyes widen, his face pales.And then before i can say anything, he's holding me.And the worst part is-I want to hold him.But I also want to slap him, hit him. Punch him. Tear out his throat.I want him to tell me what he did to me was a mistake. Some horrible mix-up. . .after I'm done holding him back.”

“Part of me wants justice for this. Part of me wants to never cause harm to another.”

“Part of me wants to turn him into hamburger and part of me doesn't want to beat up somebody who's taped to a tree.”

“I wanted to like him, and yet, a small part of me needed to fear him.”

“Maybe that was why another part of me--a very small part--had wanted to kiss Wallace then. Both sides of his mouth, between his brows, and every other place those stupid worry lines marred his expression. That part of me had wanted to hold him tight and give him the comfort I knew he couldn’t ask for.But that part terrified me the most.”