“Did he tell you that your cock will be on the end of a skewer, if you so much as hurt a hair on her head?” Jane mutters, “Oh my God.” She mouths to me, I’m so sorry. I shake my head, telling her it’s okay. I’d be more upset if her parents didn’t love her. To Rose, I say, “We didn’t get to that yet.” That, as in cock-skewering.
