“You so need to lighten up about that potato-launcher incident," Butch said. Phury rolled his eyes and eased back in the banquette. "You broke my window." "Of course we did. V and I were aiming for it." "Twice." "Thus proving that he and I are outstanding marksmen“When I want you to beg, I'll tell you.”“There aren't any syringes." Red Sox came over and held a sterile pack out. When she tried to take it form him, he kept a grip on the thing. "I know you'll use this wisely." "Wisely?" She snapped the syringe out of his hand. "No, I'm going to poke him in the eye with it. Because that's what they trained me to do in medical school.” “All of us are taking the night off," Wrath said abruptly. "We need some regroup time." Rhage snorted from across the table. "You're not going to make us play Monopoly again, are you?" Yup." A collective groan rose up from the Brotherhood, one that Wrath ignored. "Right after dinner.” “Stop it. Do not feel safe with him. The Stockholm Syndrome is not your friend.” Vishous: "...we both would slaughter anything that so much as startled you." Jane: "I'm scared of mice and spiders. But you don't need to use that gun on your hip to blow a hole in a wall if I ran into one, okay? Havaheart traps and rolled newspapers work just as well. Plus, you don't need a Sheetrock patch and plaster job afterward. I'm just saying.”