“I’ve moved on, Colt.”“Bullshit, Feb, you’re stuck, same as me.”

“Like it right now or not, Feb, couple days ago, you gave yourself back to me. You think I’m lettin’ that go, think again because, baby, you’re fucking wrong.”

“An Omelet a la Feb,” she corrected him. “I can’t say that,” he told her.“Why not?”“I’m a man, Feb. I don’t say shit like, ‘a la’ anything.”

“No matter what,” he said, his voice fierce and strong and rumbling through me. “You told me I was home to you and I get it. You’re home to me. I’ve never had a home. I like the one I found and I’m not losin’ it. No matter what.”

“I don’t put up with the shit you’ve handed me the last week because you’re some fuckin’ piece I want to conquer. I put up with it because I’ve liked you since you were eight years old. You made me laugh. You understood me. You looked out for me when no one else fuckin’ bothered and you acted like you thought I could move mountains and I needed someone who thought that about me because my Dad sure as fuck didn’t.”

“Always and forever, baby, you're stuck with me.”

“Layne - “Do you have a gun or do you need me to get you one?”Colt – “My wife was kidnapped and nearly shot in the head, man. I got guns everywhere”