More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
He looked like he needed some jungle ruins to explore or some bad people to hit with a chair. Trouble was, he was the bad people.
Two dozen people simultaneously lowered their firearms. Rogan turned to her, his face contorted by dark rage. For a second, I thought he might kill her. “Issue a fucking alert, Lenora,” Mad Rogan growled.
If he ever fell in love—which probably wasn’t possible, given that he was likely a psychopath—his would be the kind of devotion people fantasized about.
I wanted to lie. I had a strong, almost irresistible urge to make up some bullshit. Except there was no vital reason for me to do it. I just wanted to protect my ego and my pride, and that really wasn’t good enough to justify a lie.
You know what? No: if he ever fell in love, it wouldn’t be great romantic devotion. It would be an exercise in frustration and lust, and at the end of it his significant other would strangle him.
I shook my head. “How did this encounter go in your head? Did you plan on walking in here, picking me up, and carrying me away like you’re an officer and I’m a factory worker in an old movie?”
