“Are you sure, Gray?'He lifted his eyes. 'No . . . I'm not. I'm not sure of a damn thing.' He slipped his hands free of the monsignor's and peeled the battery off the phone, cutting the last ring in half. 'But that doesn't mean I won't act.”

“Nope sorry. Haven't seen him," he finally said. He handed back my phone, his warm fingers brushing against my skin. "I'm pretty sure I'd remember eyes like yours.”

“I'm sure. But it doesn't work with me. for one thing, you won't look me in the eye. As for the other...I don't know. I can just tell.”

“Once I'm free, we're going to find out exactly how much pain you can endure while remaining conscious. I won't stop until you tell me where my ring is." He leaned in to say at his ear, "I'll be sure to make you feel your loss.”

“They’re promise rings,” he whispered. Picking up the woman’s, he lifted my right hand. Sliding it on my finger, he softly said, “You wear one,” he slipped the man’s on the ring finger of his right hand, “and I wear one.”

“I'm not sure of anything," he admitted."But I didn't mean to freak you out before. I just can't seem to keep my hands off you. I don't want to keep my hands off you."~Wyatt”