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Dean
Fate was a twisted, unexpected son of a bitch.
When I met her, I thought I finally had it figured out. I thought I finally understood what I’d been searching for. I thought I’d finally taken back control of my life.
But Fate stepped in to remind me who was in control.
It threw me a curveball when I least expected it. It made me question everything. It made me realize that what I had thought was within my grasp was only an illusion—just Fate’s sleight of hand to delude me into believing that I could find happiness. But like any illusion, when you got too close to what it was you thought you had, it vanished into thin air.
When the Blonde Bitch broke my heart ten years ago, I vowed two things:
One: I would never waste my time on loving someone again.
Two: I would never have anything to do with the Blonde Bitch again.
When I met Blair Parker, my 736th notch, I broke that first vow. The minute I saw her, the second our eyes met, the microsecond I tasted her in my mouth, I knew that this was the one vow I had no choice but to break. But the second vow, that one I would keep. That vow I had no doubts about. That vow I had control over. That vow I would take to my grave.
But I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Fate had other plans in store for me. Fate was in on a cruel joke, and I was its target.
Everything I knew was about to crumble down on me. Everything I wanted was about to slip away from me. And the one relationship I cared the most about would never be the same again.
