There Is No Devil Sinners Duet Book 2 By Sophie Lark-pdfread

Randall’s fists ball at his sides. I have no idea how inebriated he is, or how
angry. He doesn’t drink as much as my mother, but when he does, it can get
just as ugly.
Luckily, he’s not yet swaying on his feet.
“You know the rules,” he snarls.
He takes my iPod and locks it in the living room cabinet.
I want to cry.
Who knows how long he’ll keep it in there. I’ll have no music, none at all,
until he deigns to give it back to me.
I don’t bother to beg—I already know that doesn’t work.
And now Randall’s out of his chair. Now he’s focused on me.
“Your mother’s obviously not coming home for dinner,” he grunts. “You’re
going to have to make it.”
I don’t know how to cook. No one cooks with regularity in this house.
Sometimes my mother does it, grudgingly. More often Randall orders in, or
we scrounge leftovers out of the fridge.
After rummaging frantically into the cabinets and the fridge, I decide on
spaghetti.
Before I’ve even filled the pot with water, Randall is already barking
criticism at me from the kitchen doorway.
“That’s not enough water.”
“Why isn’t it boiling yet?”
“No salt? Perfect—assuming you want your spaghetti bland as plaster.”
“Don’t break the noodles, are you fucking stupid?”
He doesn’t tell me what I should be doing. How am I supposed to make the
noodles fit into the pot when they’re too long and apparently can’t be broken?
Desperately, I poke them with a spoon, trying to get them to sink beneath the