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“And I don’t care that you’re in the mafia. I don’t care that you’re a murderer and my stalker. I don’t give a shit about your past any longer. It doesn’t matter to me that you spent ten years in the nuthouse. I. Don’t. Care.” She takes my face between her palms and her nails dig into my skin. “I know I should run far away from you. But damn my heart. Damn my soul and my legs and my feet… Because all I really want to do is run toward you.” Her voice breaks. “Damn you, Dubh Burton. Damn you…” — Dolores Lane
And I don’t care that you’re in the mafia. I don’t care that you’re a murderer and my stalker. I don’t give a shit about your past any longer. It doesn’t matter to me that you spent ten years in the nuthouse. I. Don’t. Care.” She takes my face between her palms and her nails dig into my skin. “I know I should run far away from you. But damn my heart. Damn my soul and my legs and my feet… Because all I really want to do is run toward you.” Her voice breaks. “Damn you, Dubh Burton. Damn you…