Wrecked: Dirty Air (Book 3)

While fate’s fucking me over, I might as well fuck you.”

“Love, is that you?” He smiles at me, all goofy with glazed eyes.

“Who’s she?” A woman clutches onto his arm, pointing at me with a red-tipped finger.

“The best part of my day,” Jax answers with another smile.

But that’s the thing about costs. None of us knows the price we’re willing to pay to be someone’s redemption.