Things Have Gotten Worse Book Novels & Stories

Something hot and ugly twisted beneath my ribs. Not rage exactly. Worse. Recognition. “Me,” I said. His silence confirmed it. I laughed once under my breath and turned away before he could see how much that hurt. “Well,” I murmured, “that feels fantastic.” “Autumn.” “No, actually, let’s sit with that.” I walked toward the bookshelves lining the wall, arms crossed tightly. “The city starts unraveling after I move here permanently. Mirrors crack. People die. And the Council’s official position is apparently: wow, weird coincidence.”

Amazing how it’s the small things that make the biggest impact. Regardless, no good deed goes unpunished, and it’s sheer dumb luck that the most feared—if not loathed—territory caught up with the rest a decade or two after the fact. It hurts and it helps. Stings as it soothes. Talk about a thing of opposites. Rom, you dick. Reminding me of what I could never have wanted—and now I’ll never find. My sigh turns into a rolled echo. Just when I was getting a buzz and able to mope properly.

My hands froze on the spine of a book I was shelving, fingertips lingering over the embossed letters. They said it like it was so simple, so black and white, they’d never stood in the kind of fire where love and ruin blurred until you couldn’t tell which was which. One boy laughed, shaking his head. “People romanticize that dark stuff. The ‘bad boy’ thing. They think it’s sexy until they can’t get out. Nobody ever really changes.” Nobody ever really changes...

She now shone brilliantly, reclaiming the self she had lost. … While Winter's office buzzed with quiet triumph and satisfaction, the chairman's office was a complete wreck. It looked like a bomb had gone off—shards of glass, papers scattered, the clatter of objects striking the floor. Nigel guzzled alcohol in frustration while Tony scrambled to clean up the mess. "Fuck that woman! How dare she mess with Yvonne and humiliate me in front of the executives? She'll pay for this!" Tony asked worriedly, "Mr. Everhart, could it be that Ms. Everhart found out we sent those debt collectors to her doorstep last time?"

Book 2 had ended in the worst way possible. My destruction was now public. And the real nightmare or whatever came next was only beginning.

They also froze all his assets in the country. Both their lives were completely over. I stood downstairs at the company, watching it all unfold. Five years of forbearance and humiliation had finally paid off. "Captain, feeling good?" Quentin asked from the side. "Not good enough. This is just the beginning," I answered coldly.

Jordan asked. “No, but if you clear it with the front office I can give you a list of all my students so that you can check. Is it really necessary?” Kalwell asked. “It is. Her books have caused some religious groups to be outraged with her and some of their unstable congregation have attempted to harm her. And then there are the super fans that love her so much they want to kill her. After the second attempted break-in, we hired more guards and built a wall with a gated entrance around her property. There have been less attempts since then, but it still happens.” Jordan explained.

I can’t show any weakness they might use against me. I sighed and fell back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Where did everything start to go wrong? We were doing great once—laughing around a bonfire, living like we’d never lose each other. Then overnight, everything turned to shit. Now we’re here. Broken in different ways. Struggling, suffering, barely breathing. Why do we have to go through hell just to learn? Can’t we learn through beautiful things too? Wouldn’t it be better to grow without breaking?

Great. While cursing myself that I had such an outburst, I clean up the mess I made. I check the old magic books Teresa brought and find out they are still unscathed. “Thank fuck, I think she would have poisoned us in our sleep if her precious books got harmed.” Diego chastises in the back of my mind. He lazily stretches his paws and lays down, watching me sort out the books, articles and papers on my desk. Moments later a soft knock on the door sounds before it swings open. I look up and Poté enters, a serious expression on his face. “Alpha, what’s up?”