I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.

I don't judge you for what you've done, Gin. Why are you judging me for another man's mistakes?

Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.” “Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows. There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked upside the head. Then another voice let out a low mutter. “Shut up, idiot.

I know, I know. But I can always kill him later. This way, at least we get to humiliate him first.” Finn eyed me. “Sometimes I think you’re even more devious, twisted, and vicious than I am.” I grinned. “You only wish you could be as ruthless as me.” “Absolutely.

I wouldn't say hate, exactly. You're kind of like fungus, Gwen. After a while, you just start growing on people.

Oh, baby. You have no idea what I’d do to get through those layers and down to the good stuff.

Finn regarded pesky little things like wedding bands, engagement rings, and jealous, hulking menfolk more as amusing challenges than immovable obstacles that could be hazardous to his health.