What did you expect? That he'd send you flowers and write you bad poetry? That dead Nemean prowler is pretty much as close to a stuffed animal as you're ever going to get from a Spartan like Logan Quinn.

I'm crazy about you, Spartan.

Oh yes. You’ve caught me. I confess. My sole purpose in life is to gleefully, willfully, maniacally destroy all of your precious chrome babies.

Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said. “This was a Fiona Fine original.

Jasmine smirke at the weapon in my hand. "That little toothpick won't save you, Gypsy." "Touthpick?" Vic muttered in an indignant voice. “Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now!

He gave me his word. That means something to a man like Donovan Caine. Yeah, it means you'll realize he's an exceptionally good liar when you're clutching your intestines and choking on your own blood on his living room floor.

But I'd much rather face a dozen assassins like LaFleur any night than deal with something as tricky, convoluted, and fragile as my feelings.