Spite was the fuel to right all your wrongs. And like any fuel, it could consume you.

“I have your back, OK? Don’t forget that. I won’t let you.”

“I cleared my throat and spoke into his kiss. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”“You sh…”

“You're a con artist. A liar. A thief. An unredeemable soul. You can't be reform…”

“I hate bullshitters; you can never bullshit them.”