“Bryan Tiernan,” she says, flipping it open to an image of his broken face, “filed two charges against you this morning. Assault and arson. I had to pay him off and tell him not to speak a word of it again. Care to explain why you’re attacking random people in their homes then setting it alight?” I stay silent. Tap my fingers on the armrests. I should’ve killed him like I killed the last guy she slept with. No one fucks Stacey and gets away with it. I can’t have her, but nobody else will.
