“I’d forgotten to keep blasting a song in my mind. I remedied my mistake, but the lyrics to “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” seemed too close to home at the mo-ment. “Culture Club?” Now his mouth curled downward. “And you accuse me of practicing cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Apart from the sampler, though, I still hadn’t heard the songs that were on the short-list for Frank and Amy seemed a bit reticent about letting me listen to them. Maybe she thought lyrics like ‘the only time I hold your hand is to get the angle right’ might shock me or that I’d embarrass her. I teased her after I’d finally heard the song. ‘I want to ask you a question,’ I said. ‘That song “In My Bed” when you sing—’ ‘Dad! I don’t want to talk about it!”

“You have no right to tell me-""You do not want to finish that sentence, missy. You want to sit down, close your mouth, and eat.""How am I supposed to eat with my mouth closed?”

“I trust you, Cash. I trust you.”He grabs my wrist and presses his lips to the inside then pulls gently until I’m bent at the waist and my face is close to his.“Come home with me. Please.” I can feel his warm breath on my lips, they’re so close. I lean forward to close the small gap, but he leans away. “Please,” he repeats softly.I would never tell him, but he could ask me anything right now and I’d agree to it. Anything at all.“Okay.” As soon as the words leave my lips, his mouth is on mine.”

“I don't care what you do to me, but I don't want you to hurt me. I've had enough hurt already in my life. More than enough. Now I want to be happy.”

“By what judgment am I judged? What is the accusation against me? Am I to be accused of my own betrayal? Am I to blame because you are my enemies? Yours is the responsibility, the knowledge, the power. I trusted you, you played with me as a cat plays with a mouse, and now you accuse me. I had no weapon against you, not realizing that there was need for weapons until too late. This is your place; you are at home here. I came as a stranger, alone, without a gun in my hand, bringing only a present that I wanted to give you. Am I to blame because the gift was unwelcome? Am I accused of the untranslated indictment against myself? Is it my fault that a charge has been laid against me in a different language? Is my offense that I stood too long on your threshold, holding a present that was unsuitable? Am I accused because you, wanting a victim and not a friend, threw away the only thing which I had to give?”