“I want to keep you, till the end of days.”
“You go in, I go in."
He took her face in his hands.
"You go, I go. That's non-negotiable. If we're to get blasted to hell or poisoned into lunatics, we do it together."
"Crap, Crap. You have to look less rich and gorgeous."
God help him, she made him grin. "I'll do what I can.”
“...those who love suffer when who they love suffers.”
“She woke to the scent of coffee, and wondered if that was how mornings in heaven smelled.”
“Marriage, she thought. Every bit as complicated and slippery as cop work.”
“Most people, however clever, however controlled, never hid it completely. There were chinks, clues, habits. At some point, the real person showed through the facade.”
“If there wasn’t coffee, the entire world would shuffle around like zombies.”
“propped up a little as her eyes adjusted. She hardly ever got to watch Roarke sleep. Most of the time he rose before she did. And sleep for her tended to be wandering in lucid, often disturbing dreams,”
“Murder could happen, she thought as she drove to Cop Central, to anyone, anywhere, anytime.”
“I read her file.” Voice strong and steady again, Peabody shifted back. “I know who she was, what she was. Now I know she left you with an animal. It’s good she’s dead.”
Stunned, Eve turned her head, stared. “That’s not very Free-Ager.”
“Fuck that.” Peabody’s eyes flashed like supernovas. “Fuck tolerance and understanding. Yeah, you’d have put her in a cage for the rest of her pathetic, evil life. But maybe sometime during her rot, she’d have put it together. Maybe she’d have remembered you. She’d have used that on you; she’d have tried. Before you scared the piss out of her, if you could get to her before Roarke. If he could get there before me. And it’s good she was such a selfish, pitiful excuse for a human being so she didn’t remember you, didn’t think about you all those years. She might’ve recognized you, especially after Roarke. She might’ve seen you on screen, and recognized you, caused you more grief and trouble. Dead’s better.”
“You, my child, will marry well. More than once." (...) The lady retrieved the cards and shuffled them back together into one stack in an attitude of dismissal.
Taking this as a sign her fortune was complete, Preshea stood. Looking particularly pleased with life, she passed over a few coins and gave Madame Spetuna a nice curtsy.
Mademoiselle Geraldine was fanning herself. "Oh, dear, oh, dear, Miss Buss. Let us hope it is widowhood and not" - she whispered the next word - "divorce that leads to your multiple marriages."
Preshea sat and sipped from a china cup. "I shouldn't worry, Headmistress. I am tolerably certain it will be widowhood.”
“I was just thinking this is nothing like what I pictured when I thought of a Vegas wedding.”
“There, I said it. We’re all adults here, right? I mean, I shouldn’t be ashamed. I’ve already told you my panties were wet, so my dignity was out the window.”
“Freedom is never the ally of law. You can have freedom to choose whether you want to join or leave a society based on the rule of law. But as long as you live in such a society you must obey the law.”
“So when one spring in spite of all this good advice I fell in love, it felt like disaster. I took a tiny bite and it exploded in my stomach. Love splashed through every cranny, hauled on every muscle, unlocked every joint. I was so full of astonishment, I felt ten feet tall. My shoulders itched as if wings might break through.”
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