Sometimes life gives you choices. Therapy or an unaliving spree. Therapy was way too expensive.

I didn't chose the life, the life was thrust at me. I guess this is me making lemonade from the rotting lemons handed to me.

Someone found me and instead of adding him to my list I've added him to my bed. OR rather he's added me to his - his list and his bed. And the scary thing is? I crave him like I crave my next victim.

You can't fix me and strangely my mystery guy isn't trying to. No, he's along for my roller-coaster and the verdicts out on why.

Vengeance has always been the game I won. But my luck is running out. I might have accidentally, not accidentally, unalived the wrong guy. He was still bad, but he might have been the son of the mob. Oops.

The good news? I have a stalker, and I think maybe I want to keep him.