“You don’t understand.” “You’re right,” he says. “I don’t. The guy terrifies you, and for the love of fuck, I don’t know why. What’s he got on you, huh? What is it about him that has you wound so tight that you’re standing in my hallway, half naked, shaking, not wanting me to go blow his brains out so you’ll stop? I mean, do you like this? Is that it? Are you having the time of your life pissing your pants over this asshole? Because if that’s the case, carry on, baby. Don’t let me stop this game you’re playing.”
