I remembered last night at the club, and how we'd been joined tighter, closer, than ever before. If you were murdered, you rose with only one thought in your dead brain: revenge. I mean how would you feel if Louie slept with someone else? Relieved, she said, because then I could be mad and kick his ass out. He gave me those wide lavender eyes, huge, and glittering, glittering with unshed tears.
She gave me the parental look. Brunette didn't look like she believed me. Denied him release for months. He looked tanned, but he was five years dead, and it couldn't be a tan.
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