We’ll try to be here to wheel you home in the morning.”“No!” Helen replied. “I can’t be seen leaving the hospital in a wheelchair. I have ...o show the world that this fucker hasn’t gotten to me in the slightest.”“You were stabbed, Helen.” Troy commented. “And everyone leaves the hospital in a wheelchair. I think it’s a law or something. I know you can change the law with a phone call, but still.”“Troy,” Helen asked the man that she thought of as “The first boy I ever truly loved.” “Who do you. The scented candles have filled the room with an aroma as sweet as you…my moans punctuate the music as you take me on a rollercoaster of pleasure. You sense the effect your ministrations have been having and decide that now isn’t the time or the way you want it…so you shuffle up and press as much of you against me as you can – every centimeter of skin that can possibly touch is in contact with you. My hands stroke your face, lifting your chin so that I can kiss you, which you respond to. “I really want to reach an equitab-” he started.“Fuck that,” Krista cut him off, her bubbling rage and fear causing constipation of the mind and diarrhea of the mouth, “You fucking kidnapped my slut niece and then you fucking assisted in the fucking death of my idiot brother. You fucking go to fucking jail, you fucking bastard, and I’m going to fucking sue you for all you’re fucking worth!”John was not a PR man. His son came by his nasty Irish temper honestly- he had one, too. He did not like. "I suppose this means that you'll be looking for some special considerations too, right? Blackstone, there are days when I wonder if you're fucking worth it! She must be one hell of a hot number to get you all twisted like that." John paused to take a deep breath, and I could hear the hiss of air across the phone as he exhaled. "Like I said, I'll see what I can come up with, and hopefully I can find someone for that California trip before you get to Seattle. But don't you drag your sorry ass in.