“This is so my favorite time of day to make house calls," Mendoza announced from the backseat of Wyatt's SUV as they cruised the Soyopango gangland territory. "Nothing says sneak attack like waltzing in under the cover of the noon-fucking-sun.”

“What happened?" Wyatt asked Crystal, and stood back so the two of them could come inside out of the oppressive heat."Why are you asking her?" Reed thumped past him. "I'm the one on crutches.""She'll tell me the truth," Wyatt said. "You'll just give me some bullshit story that will end with 'You should see the other guy'.""You wound me, bro" [Reed]"He tore his ACL the day before yesterday trying to do a stunt on a skateboard." [Crystal]"Mendoza dared him." [Luke Colter]"No one held a gun to the fool's head" [Mendoza]”

“Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it.”—Michel de Montaigne, February 28,1533–September 13, 1592”

“Nose to nose with her, he gave her his best bad dog snarl. "You've forgotten who and what you're dealing with here, princess. So let me jar your memory. I'm not on your father's short list of men you can bring home to dinner. I'm not a nice man. So if all you're looking for is sex...just keep this up and you're liable to get it. And don't expect some polite little in-and-out and 'oh darling, that was lovely.' You come to my bed, I'm going to fuck you, and there won't be anything polite about it.”

“Bastards have pissed me off," Reed snarled, out of breath, as he backed into the open armory door. "They hit me in the face."Lang grabbed Reed's jaw, turned his face toward him. "It's just a scratch."It's just my fucking face," Reed sputtered. "It needs to look good on a book jacket when I write my memoirs someday.”

“Hey, Tink," Reed called to his wife. He'd given up on the poker game and was cradling the little pink handle that was Mariah Savage in his arms. "Look how cute she is. I think I want one. S'pose we can stop by Walmart and pick up one just like her.?" Chrystal glanced up from her cards and gave her husband a look. "Three o'clock feedings. Smelly diapers. Responsability." "Oh. Right. I'd have to grow up.”

“Okay,” he said, his breath hitching, his hands shaking like hell as he pried her arms from around his neck and set her away.Deep breath. Another. "Okay. Just...um. Okay. Christ. Christ, Darcy, I want you so bad I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you.”