Green eyes as sharp as the edge of a blade, she says, “So you do need me? For what, exactly?” I growl, “Target practice.” Her gaze is steady. Unblinking. Unnerving. She says softly, “Gangster … do you have a crush on me?” “No.” “Because no one would blame you if you did.” “Jesus. You’re off in the head.” “And I did tell you this would happen.” I thunder, “It didn’t happen! Nothing has happened!”
