“No, Julian murmured with a shake of his head. No, there's a third option. People like us, we're third option people. We take the gun, stuff it in the person's mouth, and eliminate the problem. Walk off into the sunset with our kitty.”
“He’s the kind of man who if you gave him a gun and told him he had two choices—“shoot one of your dogs or shoot yourself in the head”—he’d put the gun to his ear and pull the trigger.” “Hell, Jules, you’d do the same thing if someone did that to you and your goddamned cats,” Blake said in amusement. “No,” Julian murmured with a shake of his head. “No, there’s a third option. People like us, we’re third-option people. We take the gun, stuff it in the person’s mouth, and eliminate the problem. Walk off into the sunset with our kitty.”
“She turned and looked at Deuce, giving him a helpless gesture. “What the hell is going on?” “Livi, you remember my brother, Ty. This is his partner, Zane Garrett.” “Hi,” Zane offered in a low voice that sent a shiver up Ty’s spine. “And these are their… friends, Julian and Cameron,” Deuce said as he waved at the other two men. “Nice to meet you,” Cameron mumbled. She greeted them each, overwhelmed by the surprise, then looked at the doorknob and the string of straws, shaking her head. “What is all this?” “It was a security measure. We’re running from the CIA,” Ty told her, not even attempting to spare her. “They’re trying to kill us.” “Well, kill him, specifically,” Zane added as he pointed at Julian. “I sell antiques,” Julian said, monotone. She narrowed her eyes, looking amongst them and then at Deuce. “Is this some sort of boys’ weekend that I’m not supposed to intrude on? Because I can totally leave before they hurt themselves trying to lie convincingly.” Deuce gave her a warm smile and shook his head. “I think the only one lying is him,” he said, pointing at Julian.”
“I know he's not stupid," Julian whispered in a stricken voice. "He's not...he's not one of us, just like you said. he's the kind of man who if you gave him a gun and two choices--shoot one of your dogs or shoot yourself in the head--he'd put the gun to his ear and pull the trigger.""Hell, Jules, you'd do the same thing if someone did that to your and your goddamned cats," Blake said in amusement. "No," Julian murmured with a shake of his head. "No there's a third option. People like us, we're third-option people. We take the gun, stuff it in the person's mouth, and eliminate the problem. Walk off into the sunset with our kitty.”
“What's a miffin?""Trippy muffin.”
“Did you just do what I think you did?” he exclaimed.“Depends on what you think I did,” Jake shot back with a signature grin as he thumped down the front steps and strolled forward to retrieve his flip flop. “That’s what we do. You think and Ithrow things,” he explained. “So I’ll make you a deal. You stop thinking,” he drawled, bending to pick up the shoe and wave it around threateningly, “and I’ll stop throwing things.”