“What the bloody hell are you, Ms. Lane?”

“And you can tell Darroc that Ms. Lane is mine. If he wants her, he can bloody well come and get her”

“The two of you are getting downright chatty, aren't you, Ms. Lane? When did you last see him? what else did he tell you?
I'm asking the questions tonight.
If an illusion of control comforts you, Ms. Lane, by all means, cling to it.”

“You, Ms. Lane, are a menace to others! A walking, talking catastrophe in pink!”

“Do your thing, Ms. Lane. you might be criminally young, but the night is not.”

“Lose the pessimism, Ms. Lane. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“What are you Barrons?”
“The one who will never let you die, and that’s more, Ms Lane, than anyone in your life has been able to say to you. More than anyone else can do”

“There are two kinds of people in the world Ms. Lane: those who survive no matter the cost and those who are walking victims.”

“Barrons." I hastily shoved the phone between the cushions.

Ms. Lane." He inclined his dark head.

You tattooed me, you bastard." I got right to the point.”

“What are you?” I said irritably.
“In the Serengeti, Ms. Lane, I would be the cheetah. I’m stronger, smarter, faster, and hungrier than everything else out there. And I don’t apologize to the gazelle when I take it down.”