It was the jump without a parachute, the leap without knowing, the trip and the fall without anything to catch you. Something that was made with no expectations and no reservations. In this case, payback, as it turned out, was actually a pledge. Not to break the pair of them up, no, that wasn’t it. But coming forward and being real about the fact that he was in love? Even if Blay was with someone else? That was the true divide. And then after way too much drama, he’d finally told the guy he was grateful. After way too many years, he’d finally told Blay he was sorry. “The true measure of courage was still waiting for him, however. Apart from their shellans, V and Butch loved the Sox above almost everything else-including sanity.” And the sad thing was, he was right to be concerned. Tohr actually stepped in front of Lassiter, like he was worried that something a lot more than smack talk was going to start flying. “When and where did you become a friend of the enemy-” Like the guy had maybe volunteered for a lobotomy. “I’ll have to kill you, and frankly, tonight we need all the wingmen we’ve got.”

“Do not tell me you’re a Yankees fan,” V drawled. The angel caught the thing on the fly and stared at the red S. “Here, use mine,” Butch said, outing a B Sox cap and throwing it over. He looked like a living, breathing jewelry tree. Then again, maybe the illumination wasn’t his nature, but that gold he insisted on wearing. “Lassiter skidded in from the billiards room, the fallen angel glowing from his black-and-blond hair and white eyes, all the way down to his shitkickers. 'Sounds good,' Qhuinn shouted over his shoulder.

The guy yelled more loudly, 'I'll just keep it then, yeah?' 'What about your change ?' the man called out. Nodding to John, who was also measuring the dear boy for a shroud, Qhuinn went to walk off. Qhuinn took out a twenty and didn't wait for change-murder 'Oh, so that's why your eyes are all weird.'

Moved slowly, like the bar codes on those bags were creating some kind of wind resistance under his laser reader. As if someone using American Sign Language was some kindĪs the man kept staring, Qhuinn wanted to pop him.

'Is he deaf' the guy behind the cash register asked in a stage Of ASL in various l-got-this combinations. “And what do you know, John's hands flew through the positions

Lover at Last by J.R. Ward