“What was wrong with giving Gin a key?" he rumbled. "It's not like I could keep her out of the house, even if I wanted to. I thought a key would make things easier, make her feel like she was really welcome here. This is the first time that I've dated an assassin. I don't want to piss her off”

“This is the first time I've dated an assassin. I don't want to piss her off.”

“I smiled back at her. I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud because they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish.”

“I'm always looking for what will make me whole. What will make me happy? Somewhere along the way I started to think it wasn't Helen anymore. She hasn't changed. Her laugh is still the one I remember. Her finger is still the one I put the ring on all those years ago. I can't understand why I don't want to curve next to her, keep her back warm anymore. Surely you don't lose love like keys?”

“He wanted to do things to this woman. He wanted to make her feel the way a good boyfriend would – desired, wanted, craved. She deserved all that. He could give it to her now. He could give it to her for a week.”

“You want me to give her a key?" the guy asked."I want you to give her a possibility," she told him, looking at my necklace again. "And that's what a key represents. An open door, a chance. You know?”