It's Mari, Jack," Ken whispered, needing to say it aloud. "What?" Jack jerked around, staring at the sniper as the eyes fluttered closed. "Are you certain?" Ken pulled the woman's belt loose and buckled it around her leg. "Either that or your wife is playing sniper for the other team. It has to be Mari. She looks exactly like Briony.

If you allowed yourself to hear or feel amusement, you would hear and feel pain.

You're my life, Elle. When we have our children, they'll be included in that circle and I'm not a man to lose everything. I want you as safe as possible." "So you don't think three protection dogs, a room filled with weapons, a panic room and house that eats people isn't just a little overkill?

We never can just stop time. Or take moments back. Life doesn't work that way, does it?

There was a certain feminine satisfaction in having the last word, delivering her line smartly, and breaking the connection between them quickly and decisively.

I don't suppose you cook?" Tucker inquired hopefully. "Did you think because she can start fires she'd be great with a grill? Gator asked.

You're insane, but you're my kind of man.