“I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. He screamed in pain, doubling over with a howl as she stumbled out of the bed. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. She relented out of exhaustion, yet he would not let her near Marina, his embrace tightening. To—to find myself. She nuzzled his chest and he breathed deeply of the scent of her Finesse conditioner. There haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman; and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's scragged. Lord, I am sixty.
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