She's my baby girl, Quinn. I want love for her. Real love. The kind that makes a man crazy inside. -Gibraltar to Quinn

For the record, Irish," he informed her tightly, just in case she got the wrong idea, "I kneel to no one.

I was adrift in a sea of questions and if answers were lifeboats, I was in imminent danger of drowning.

I've spent enough time behind a bar that I've formed a few opinions about what people wear and what it says about them. Guys who wear black from head to toe fall into two categories: they want to be trouble, or they are trouble.

I’m asking the questions tonight.” One day I was going to write a book: How to Dictate to a Dictator and Evade an Evader, subtitled How to Handle Jericho Barrons.

How could they let me grow up like that—happy and pink and stupid?

Revenge. They took too much. You give up and die, or learn how to take back.