Quinn struggled weakly. She scratched and beat at his hands and tried to pry his forearm from her throat. She cursed helplessly against the gag. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” Desoto grinned. He leaned in closer. “Too bad we don’t have more time. You’re a mouthy little slut, but you’ve still got some worthwhile parts.” She wanted to claw his eyes out. To bite and scratch and kick until she was free, and he was dead. Deader than dead.
