Vic’s smile narrowed, and her jaw muscles bunched just a bit. “You come over here to mind-fuck me, Bob? Because if you did you’re going to end up getting fucked yourself.” She gestured toward the elaborate walkways and towers. “This golfing with guns is fun, but I’ve been trying to hit shit that was shooting at me since I was in my twenties, so if, indeed, you are trying to mind-fuck me—go fuck yourself, because I fuck back.”
