More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Where did these glasses come from?” I asked, frowning at the barware. “These are my car wine glasses. I always carry a pair.” “Of course you do.”
“Not everyone can strut through town, not giving a shit about what other people think.” “Let’s get one thing straight, Daisy. I don’t strut.” She crossed her eyes at me in the mirror. “Fine. You sashay.”
“I told you idiots I’m fucking good at my job.”
Engines cut. Doors opened. And Knockemout showed the fuck up.
