The Wolf

Why the hell do you care?” With a shrug, Mayhem replied, “I don’t have anything better to do. And I haven’t been allowed to watch TV for how long? Your drama is going to be my new favorite show.

Your beast come out?” the King said. “Nah, I sneezed.” Black brows lifted over the wraparounds. “Really? I didn’t know your nose had that kind of firepower.” “It doesn’t,” V answered as he took out a hand-rolled. “He had an oopsie.” “Do you need gun practice—” “You would have sneezed, too,” Rhage interrupted the King. “And no, I don’t need to go to the range. Well, unless Lassiter has a target on his ass—” “I’ll volunteer the angel right here, right now.” V parked it on the far side of the desk. “And can I be the one with the stapler, pinning the tail on his donkey? ’Cuz I’ll tell you right now, I’ma hit that Stanley until the thing jams.

Your understanding is not required. Reality really doesn’t give a shit about rational and reasonable.

They’re your brothers,” Rhage said in a grim voice. “And you need to save them because when you do, you save yourself. That’s why you keep coming back here, even though you have a female of worth at home. You need to save your brothers… to save yourself.” The Jackal rubbed his head like it hurt. “But they aren’t my blood.” “Blood is not required for that job description. Trust me.

Do you want some chocolate? I got M&M's--" "What? Why would I want chocolate?" "It cheers people up." Hollywood took out a plastic baggie full of bright and cheerful little UFOs. "Here--" V batted the calories away. "Yeah, you can fuck off with that." “Why? It has that chemical that simulates the feeling of falling in love.” Rhage opened the bag’s top. “Fritz puts them in a Ziploc for me because sometimes the regular packaging breaks open when I’m in the field. I hate chocolate in pockets, all melty. It’s like putting your hand in poop—” “Oh, my fucking God, please stop talking—” “—except you can eat it, of course.

All he had to do was empty the lower intestines of a dealer into the guy's own couch." “Your beast come out?” the King said. “Nah, I sneezed.” Black brows lifted over the wraparounds. “Really? I didn’t know your nose had that kind of firepower.” “It doesn’t,” V answered as he took out a hand-rolled. “He had an oopsie.

Let me get this straight. You’re putting nubs in your mouth, but you’re worried what’s doing with my ass?” “Don’t hate the pretzel. And let’s get back to the issue at hand.

Please, oh Great Virgin Scribe in all your drapey-drapey, if you’ve ever loved me, and I know you didn’t, but still, just don’t let that fallen angel—

Why? It has that chemical that simulates the feeling of falling in love.” Rhage opened the bag’s top. “Fritz puts them in a Ziploc for me because sometimes the regular packaging breaks open when I’m in the field. I hate chocolate in pockets, all melty. It’s like putting your hand in poop—” “Oh, my fucking God, please stop talking—” “—except you can eat it, of course.” “What.

-and,bonus,she had this cute little nine millimeter accessory that didn’t make her ass look fat and brought out the fuck off that was never far below the surface of her baby browns.

And no, I don’t need to go to the range. Well, unless Lassiter has a target on his ass—” “I’ll volunteer the angel right here, right now.” V parked it on the far side of the desk. “And can I be the one with the stapler, pinning the tail on his donkey? ’Cuz I’ll tell you right now, I’ma hit that Stanley until the thing jams.

A series of light bulbs dangling from raw wires illuminated its progression to a far-off end… and she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. The walls had cutouts in them, little curve-topped holes stacked three to a group and spaced far enough apart to accommodate ladders that led up to the middle and top levels. It was almost as though they were sleeping compartments of some kind— “Come on,” Apex hissed. “We don’t want to be caught here.” “Then why did you stop.” She glanced back at him. “What are all those spaces?” “None of your business.” As he pulled her away, she did some math in her head. Assuming they were a kind of bunk system, there had to be—Jesus, several hundred workers in the facility. “How many people are here?” she said, even though she’d already done the estimate, and even if she hadn’t, he would certainly not help her. It was more like she couldn’t believe the total. “We’re going all the way up to the main floor. It’s more dangerous in some ways and less so in others.” “Well, I’ll put that in my Yelp! review of this place. Thanks.” When they got to the next floor, he didn’t give her a chance to stop at the fire door. She caught only a glance through its window down another long corridor. Unlike the one under it, the level seemed to be far more brightly lit, and there were no sleeping pods. The walls were also finished, although only with raw Sheetrock from what she glimpsed. At the next landing, Apex stopped at a steel door that had no window in it. Pressing his ear against the steel panel, he seemed to not even breathe as he listened. Then he turned to her. “The lowest two floors are totally underground. The next one up is mostly so. This one is not at all, however, so I’m going to have to move fast. As soon as I open the way, we’re heading to the first door on the left that’s unlocked. It’s a break room. It will be empty and the windows are boarded up, so it’s safer. On three. One… two… three—” Apex ripped open the metal panel, and then recoiled as if he had been hit with toxic gas. Lifting his arm to his face, he ducked down low—and jumped forward