“Fine.” I poured one more shot for her, then screwed the lid on the bottle. “But that’s it. I’m not putting my life in the hands of a bunch of drunks.”

“I’m not putting my faith or life in anyone’s hands. All that ever got me was screwed, and my ass is currently sore from it. (Wren)Nice imagery there, tiger. Graphic. Ever think of writing children’s books? (Fury)”

“So you got Phoenix back,” declared Karla, clapping her hands in delight. “That’s lovely.”“I’m more on loan,” I muttered.“Yeah, my little library book.”

“I’m a handyman. I work with my hand. I masturbate for a living. That’s right, I’m in politics.”

“Yeah, tell me I’m a bottle of single malt scotch, she thought. That’s the way to my heart.”

“And I know Blake had a bunch of fucking problems going on the night he was shot. But Mouse here made sure the hired guns were dead before they could hurt him. I don’t know if I get to call him a hero, if that’s allowed, because I’m a bad man, and he was my friend. But he was a hero to me.”