“Not one fuckin’ thing gentlemanly about protecting what’s yours. Looks like you’re gonna lose it, you do everything you can to stop that from happening.” Max looked back to Niles. “And you didn’t do that. She was a week away from me, she walked into a room I was in holdin’ another man’s hand, I’d lose my fuckin’ mind. Not at her. Wonderin’ where I lost my way and I’d talk to her about how to find my way back.”
“I remember the woman who marched up to the front of a church where I was doing a meeting, put her hands on her hips, and she said, "I want my money back." I said, "What are you talking about?" She said, “I’ve been doing this two weeks, and it doesn’t work. I want my money back!” It was actually all that I could keep from doing to keep from laughing in her face, but she was serious. She actually was, like, giving almost to buy some kind of a new lifestyle that she wanted. Didn’t understand a thing about commitment and dedication and discipline. Two weeks! How many of you know you’re not going to throw a little money in the bucket and get your life that’s been a mess for 50 years turned around in two weeks!?!?”
“Whatever this shit is between us it’s always been there and it’s always gonna be there. I’m shit-fuckin’-tired tryin’ to ignore it. I’ll try to do right by you Eva, you’d be the first, but I’ll fuckin’ try my damndest. And baby, true freedom is the open road, the wind on your face and a good woman on the back of your bike holdin’ you tight like you’re her reason for breathin’ because she sure as fuck is yours.”
“Do you really think you can read out my mind?" she asks me, face to face."I think so," I say, wishing to convince myself. "There has to be a way.""It is like looking for lost drops of rain in a river.""You're wrong. The mind is not like raindrops. It does not lose itself among other things. If you believe in me at all, than believe this: I promise you I will find it. Everything depends on this.""I believe you," she whispers after a moment. "Please find my mind.”
“My hand found its way back to her knee. I hoped it was to comfort her. I’d hate to think that my right hand was straight. “Soon. I’ll call her this afternoon and get back to you.” She nodded. I removed my right hand, thankful that I was left-handed. I’d hate to have to try masturbating with a straight hand. It probably wouldn’t cooperate. And then where would I be?”
“Kiss me!” I pleaded. “Please, Pigeon! I told him no!”Abby shoved me away. “Leave me alone, Travis!”She shouldered passed me, but I grabbed her wrist. She kept her arm straight, outstretched behind her, but she didn’t turn around. “I am begging you.” I fell to my knees, her hand still in mine. My breath puffed out in white steam as I spoke, reminding me of the cold. “I’m begging you, Abby. Don’t do this.” Abby glanced back, and then her eyes drifted down her arm to mine, seeing the tattoo on my wrist. The tattoo that bared her name.She looked away, toward the cafeteria. “Let me go, Travis.” The air knocked out of me, and with all hope obliterated, I relaxed my hand, and let her slip out of my fingers. Abby didn’t look back as she walked away from me, and my palms fell flat on the sidewalk. She wasn’t coming back. She didn’t want me anymore, and there was nothing I could do or say to change it.”