“Look, whatever you want, just take it,” I say again. “You want to talk, talk. You want to fuck me, I’ll lay down on the back seat and you can fuck me in the ass or whatever sick thing you want to do that you think can still hurt me. It won’t. Don’t you get that? It doesn’t matter, Royal. Whatever you do to me, I don’t care. If you want to kill me, here are my wrists. Fucking slit them. I won’t fight. I don’t care.”
