“Tell me to stop,” Matt whispered. “Last chance.”

“[In my dream] they slide their lips over my skin, whispering whispering whispering. They tell me their names, they tell me their lives, they tell me their pain...I can't struggle, I can't stop laughing, I can't resist these people who once were.”

“I can’t stop thinking about doing this to you,” he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him. “Tell me to stop now if you don’t want this. If you don’t want me.”

“You don't find a masked man wielding a gun interesting? Tell me...what do you find interesting then-Matt Carter”

“You have no clue," he whispered."No clue about what?" I whispered back."What you handed me last night."I took in a deep breath and asked softly, "What did I hand you, honey?""What's lyin' in that bed."That was when I stopped breathing."I claimed it," he went on. "But last night you gave it to me. Gift's given, no takin' it back. You get that, Tyra?""I think so," I whispered."Get that, baby, it's important.”

“Damn right. Now shut up, Donahue, and tell me that you'll spend the rest of your life with me."Matt pronounced his next words very carefully:"I do.”