“Don’t be so fucking mouthy, rabbit,” I say. I feel the throb of her heartbeat beneath my fingers. Nervous sweat coats her skin. “You tried to sell me!” she says with a strained voice. “More like . . . loan you.” I’m trying to rationalize with myself as much as her. What I did was fucked, yes, but sometimes there’s no changing who you are, even in the face of something so different from what has molded you.
