“Make no mistake, Ms. Lane, I didn’t rape you. You can lie there on your pretty littleP.C. ass and claim with your idealistic little P.C. arguments that any violation of your willis rape and that I’m a big, bad bastard, and I’ll tell you that you’re full of shit, and you’veobviously never been raped. Rape is much, much worse. Rape isn’t something you walkaway from. You crawl.”

“I didn’t say, You are such a stuffy asshole. And he didn’t say, If you ever burn one of my quarter-of-a-million dollar rugs again I’ll take it out of your hide, and I didn’t say, Oh, honey, wouldn’t you like to? And he didn’t say Grow up, Ms. Lane, I don’t take little girls to my bed, and I didn’t say I wouldn’t go there if it was the only safe place from the Lord Master in all of Dublin.”

“What are you Barrons?”“The one who will never let you die, and that’s more, Ms Lane, than anyone in your life has been able to say to you. More than anyone else can do”

“There’s only one question that matters, Ms. Lane, and it’s the one you never get around to asking. People are capable of varying degrees of truth. The majority spend their entire lives fabricating an elaborate skein of lies, immersing themselves in the faith of bad faith, doing whatever it takes to feel safe. The person who truly lives has precious few moments of safety, learns to thrive in any kind of storm. It’s the truth you can stare down stone-cold that makes you what you are. Weak or strong. Live or die. Prove yourself. How much truth can you take, Ms. Lane?”

“Do your thing, Ms. Lane. you might be criminally young, but the night is not.”

“Figure out another way to explain me. I don’t care what you come up with. But if you call me your latest piece of petunia again or make uncalled-for references to my mouth and oral sex with you, you and I are through.”He raised a brow. “Petunia, Ms. Lane?”I scowled. “Ass, Barrons.”He crossed his arms and his gaze dropped to my glossy Lip-Venom red lips. “Am I to understand there are called-for references to your mouth and oral sex with me, Ms. Lane? I’d like to hear them.”

“I can smell you, Ms. Lane," he said, even more softly. "The only blood on you is from your veins, not your womb."My head whipped to the left and I stared at him. Ok, that was one of the more disturbing things he'd ever said to me.”