“He tried not to think about his Grandma’s opinion of whores and drugs. He could only believe in the pattern he’d learned from Beckett—a pattern of respect and kindness.”

“Maybe he could have changed his mind. Maybe he could have continued thinking only about himself. But Beckett had seen her face. He’d been looking at her eyes when the grateful girl reached up to give Eve a hug.”

“He moved to her earlobe and breathed, “First, I will blow, then I will lick, last I will bite.” Blake took his time blowing an elaborate pattern on her stomach, and Livia was pretty sure he’d spelled the word torture.”

“By the time he climaxed, Eve was arched and her hair touched the floor. Her face was as far away from his as it could get while still having him inside her.They panted like this for a moment, until he realized she was too ashamed to sit back up and look at him. He’d just been at the center of her loss. He’d poisoned the only place she’d ever held her baby. Beckett looked at her long, white form. He ran his hand over a fine white scar he found just under her belly button—the scar somehow he had put on her body.”

“I’m going to hell, Livia,” he said.“I’m going to hell for all three of us,” Beckett said defiantly. Only now did he pull his hand away.“I think you might be a better man than you give yourself credit for,” Livia said, trying to catch his eye again.”

“Beckett wanted only to get his brother on the motorcycle and out of Dodge. He’d refused to discuss his own options, and Eve didn’t see a whole lot of opportunity for Beckett to get out alive—no matter how well she picked off the enemy. Beckett was ready to martyr himself for brotherhood and past mistakes.”

“He tried to remember the feel of her hand when she’d shaken his. “I’m Livia McHugh. It’s nice to meet you.”Smoke poured from the cardboard as he remembered his response. “Blake Hartt. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He’d said his name, but what he’d been thinking was: She touched me. I am someone. I count.”