“I know what kind of man it takes to get involved with something as barbarous as human trafficking.”“I get it, Swopes. He’s not the kind of man you take home to meet yourstepmom.” I rethought that. “Wait a minute. Maybe my stepmom would like to meet him. Do you think he ships to Istanbul?”

“I shifted in my chair as Dad waited for a response. He seemed determined, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possibly Milk Duds.“Are you psychotic?” I asked, realizing my plan to charm and bribe him if need be flew out the window the minute I opened my mouth.”

“He took a long draw then asked, “What’d I do?”“You knew about the guy threatening my dad?”He paused, shifted in his chair, so freaking busted, it wasn’t funny. “They told you?”“Why, no, Swopes, they didn’t. Instead, they waited until the guy knocked the fuck out of my dad and readied him for spaceflight with duct tape then tried to kill me with a butcher’s knife.”

“You either fainted or you wanted a much closer look at the cracks in the tile. Either way, you hit hard.""Seriously?"He nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't have been trying to make out with him," he suggested.How did he know that? "I was kissing him good-bye."He snorted and exchanged glances with the nurse. "That's not what it looked like to me."Probably not. But what happened? Could Reyes Farrow take control over me even from a freaking coma? I was doomed.”

“I think you need to water your plants," Garrett [Swopes, PI]called out to me [Charley Davidson, Grim Reaper and PI]."Oh, they're fake." He was looking at the plants I had along my windowsill. Either that or my mold problem was getting out of hand. After a long pause I heard, "Those are fake?""Yeah, I had to make them look real. A little spray paint, a little lighter fluid, and voila! Fake dying plants.""Why would you want fake dying plants?" he asked."Because if they were all thick and healthy-looking, anyone who knows me would realise they were fake.""Yeah, but is that really the point?""Duh.”

“In a moment of sheer terror, I realized I couldn't feel my brain. It was there just a minute ago. Maybe I really was dead. "Do I look dead to you?”

“She reached up and curled her fingers into mine. “He should take you to dinner.” To say that the mere thought horrified me would have been a grievous understatement. I threw up a little in my mouth then swallowed hard.I told Taft when I recovered, “Just please, for the love of God, find a girl good enough to take home to your mother. And do it soon.”“And stop dating skanks.”