She drops her hands, a wry, watery laugh escaping in short puffs. Her eyes are still closed when she mutters:

"Maybe I'm already the woman they been writin' 'bout."

Opening them, she looks at him again, blinking to put his face in focus.

"'She kisses the men she kills,' s'my trademark. I ain't never done nothin' but hurt you. Got Sam killed. Murdered three men. I wasn't even there when they shot my daddy."

She drops her head again, staring at his hands -- one brown, the other smudged with that silky white scar.

"I hate you for havin' a family, for not tellin' me. For goin' back t'them an' keepin' it secret. For trustin' your friends here more'n y'trust me. I hate feelin' second best.



"But mostly I hate m'self, 'cuz I'll never be able t'give you what y'had with Yen."