“Closing his eyes, he made it about fifteen minutes before his tossing and turning rode those pj bottoms so far up his crotch he felt like he could cough flannel.If he was doing the mattress and pillow thing, he usually slept naked and now he knew why.This was f'in ridiculous.”

“Now,” she told them, “now is the time to be afraid of the dark.” Richard knew that something was about to creep over his face. He closed his eyes: it made no difference to what he saw or felt. The night was complete.”

“Piney woke up wearing a big grin on his face. He couldn’t remember when he’d slept so well. He pulled the pillow next to him up over his face. He could smell her hair on it.“Jesse,” he murmured to himself. He liked her. He really liked her. And he loved, loved, loved doing her.Being inside her. She was so hot. She was so tight. She was…Piney stopped himself in midthought and rolled out of bed. His mind was headed where his body could not go.”

“He turned to look at the door and narrowed his eyes. So, Rule Number One, apparently, was that he wasn’t allowed to crack a smile during foreplay. “Got it,” he muttered to himself as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side before stepping up to the door and throwing it open.”

“Hurling the box released some of his anger. It felt good so he swept his arm across the top of his dresser, knocking his pitiful possessions onto the floor, the ridiculous little carved animals, pathetic toiletries and useless old catalog he could never afford to orderfrom. These paltry items were the sum of his entire dismal life.He kicked the frame of his bed, hurting his foot and knocking the light cot awayfrom the wall. Heedless of Rasmussen hearing the noise, he cried out his rage and frustration, tore the covers off the bed, picked up the pillow and punched it. He hurled it across the room. Dragging the thin mattress from the metal mesh of the cot, he tossed iton the floor and looked around, but there was nothing else to tear apart since he owned so little. Laughing at the irony, he sank onto the mattress on the floor, his legs drawn to hischest, forehead bowed to his knees, and his hands cradling the back of his neck.Caught between harsh laughter and sobs, he breathed in hitching bursts. He had no future, definitely no girl, and soon, no home. What the hell was he going to do?”

“Ned closed his eyes and opened them; it made no difference. He slept and woke and slept again. He did not know which was more painful, the waking or the sleeping. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares.”