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Death on the Boardwalk

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Caleb Wygal

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“The Chattering Season by Stewart Stafford Hear a fearsome banshee's wail, From a dank bog or Celtic dale, Like the pulling of the rat's tail, In the whistle of a thrashing gale. In this skittish son of Mc's room, A death knell tolls out his doom, A cursed shadow now does loom, Her spirit bride's unwilling groom. The stark evening's grim messenger, She's a maelstrom's fatal passenger, Howls from last breath's harbinger, No dowry for this eternal dowager. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

“He sighed against my lips, and I wondered if this was happiness, if this clawing in my chest was how I felt when we’d done this before. Because if it was, then I understood why Gordo had said I must have fought like hell. If someone had tried to take this away from me, the memory of him and the way he felt against me, I would have done everything in my power to fight back. Even as I felt consumed by him, a low, fiery hatred burned in the pit of my stomach at the thought that it had been taken from me. My pack. My home. My mate.”

“But then he said he wanted you. That he wanted you to come to him, and it was like this fire started in my chest. I was never going to let that happen. I was never going to let you go to him. I didn’t understand why. Even in the face of all the little asides, all the knowing smirks that make me feel so goddamn stupid in retrospect. You want to know why I’m here? Why I chased you across miles and miles and for months and months? It’s because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I finally find something of my own, something all for me, only to have it taken away. Your father was right. I’m tired, Gavin. Of everything. Paying for the mistakes of all those who came before us. All I want is to live free and feel like I’m not dying with every breath I take.” And it was there, finally, the box unlocked. I embraced it as best I could. “You’re my mate.”

“This eternal accusation against Christianity I shall write upon all walls, wherever walls are to be found--I have letters that even the blind will be able to see. . . . I call Christianity the one great curse, the one great intrinsic depravity, the one great instinct of revenge, for which no means are venomous enough, or secret, subterranean and small enough,--I call it the one immortal blemish upon the human race...”

“You don’t understand.” He laughed bitterly. “I don’t understand? That’s what you’re going with? Fuck you, Carter. I understood better than anyone. Robbie was taken from us. Taken from me. For thirteen months, I did all I could to get him back. And even when half the pack was against it or, even worse, apathetic about it, I fought for him.” I couldn’t look at him. I struggled to find the words. I said, “You weren’t alone. Gordo, Ox. They—” “I don’t care!” he shouted at me. “Even if I was, I still would have done everything I could. I was never going to let him go. He’s my fucking mate, and I would have torn this world apart to get to him, even if I had to do it by myself. And don’t you dare try and say that’s what you were doing here because it’s not the same. You had your entire pack willing to help you, to do anything we could to get Gavin back. But you decided to play martyr.”

“Who cares, right? I mean, it’s sort of fitting, you know? And even if there wasn’t this thing between us, I could.…” I shook my head. “Even when he was stuck as a wolf, I felt it. I didn’t know what it was. In hindsight, I should have. I hated it at first, but I got used to it. Then he was gone. It hurt more than I ever thought something like that could. And all I could think about was getting to him. I need him to be my shadow because without him, I’m … I felt lost. He’s snarly. He’s surly. He’s a pain in my fucking ass. But there’s no one like him. Dad told me once that there could be others, that there wasn’t just one person. That we had a choice. I think I’ve made mine, though. If he’ll have me. Do you think he’ll have me? I’m not perfect. I make mistakes.” I shrugged awkwardly. “He sees through that, though. I exasperate him, I annoy him, and he scowls at me like he wants to punch my fucking teeth down my throat. And it all goes away when he says thump, thump, thump. Because he hears my heart and it anchors him. How can I say no to that? Who cares if he’s a man or a woman or somewhere in between? It doesn’t matter. All I care about is that he sees me. Like, really sees me. And I see him.” I looked at my brothers. They were gaping at me. “What?” I said, suddenly self-conscious. I rubbed the back of my neck as my face grew hot. “Holy shit,” Kelly breathed. “You love him,” Joe whispered. I glared at them. “I do not. Shut up.” “No,” Kelly said, voice growing louder. “You looooooove him.”