“We’re takin’ Faye home.”“Got that.”“Son, I need to know which home we’re takin’ her to.”Jesus.Was the church deacon Dad of the virgin girlfriend he’d deflowered asking him which bed he wanted to sleep in with his daughter that night?“Yours or hers?” Silas continued.Fucking hell, he was.”

“She knew what Silas wanted. He wanted her to believe Amos was alive somewhere. Silas wanted help, clinging to his hope. She knew her son. For all her dislike of how much he was like his father, she knew him.”

“Never ask me about Jon; he is my blood and that is all you need to know! Ned was different. He brought his bastard home, and called him son.”

“Dad would be home soon. This might work to my advantage. I knew bringing the guy home would royally piss him off. He’d have puppies if he found a stranger in the house. Hell, he might even have a llama.”

“This man was a rogue, not because circumstances forced him to be a criminal but because he was born that way. He was probably conning his mother out of her milk the moment he could grin. He'd charm the clothes off a virgin in twenty minutes. And if the poor fool took him home, he'd drink her dad under the table, beguile her mother, charm her grandparents, and treat the girl to a night she'd never forget. In the morning, her dad would be sick with alcohol poisoning, the good silver would be missing together with the family car, and in a month, both the former virgin and her mother would be expecting.”

“We’re a team, Mac,” he says. “We’ll get through this.” “Which part?” I ask. He smiles. “All of it.” And I smile back, because I want him to be right.”