“You can’t threaten to kill everyone who bad-mouths me.” “Why not?” he muttered. “Mostly? Because they’ll start seeing me as your weak spot and they’ll use me to get at you. It doesn’t matter to me what they think of me. Only what you do.” He leaned in and whispered, “I wish I could kiss you.” “Save them up. I’ll take them all at once when you can.” In reply, he brushed his hand over my hair. Shortly thereafter, Stalker and Frank joined us. The conversation grew more general, speculation on what the summer held and anticipation of how hard we’d have to work in the woods tomorrow. Eventually,
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