Aftg Quotes

Such an unexpected will to survive from someone who has nothing to live for.

Are you stupid?” Seth asked. “Yeah,” Neil said.

What would it take to make you stay?" The question was so unexpected Neil had to turn back. "What?" Andrew laughed quietly at his shock and leaned forward. "Name it and it's yours. It doesn't matter what it is so long as you stand your ground here with us.

Looks like you've managed to completely embarrass yourself in both languages.

I don't swing either way," Neil said. "Let's go in." "Bullshit," Nicky said. "I don't," Neil said, and impatience put an edge in his voice. It wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough.

How stupid, that someone so short could have such a presence.

Neil watched Kevin wilt beneath the weight of his brother’s – no, owner’s – fury and kissed his survival instincts goodbye. He grabbed Riko’s shirt and hauled him back.

I don’t understand suicide,” Neil said. “Staying alive has always been so important I can’t imagine actively trying to die.” “He wasn’t,” Andrew said, like Neil was being stupid. […] “He wanted a way out for a little while, a few hours where he didn’t have to think or feel. Problem was he picked an out that’s easy to die on. That’s his fault.

Neil didn’t know how long he played with his little league team, but his hands remembered the weight of a racquet as well as they did that of a gun

Light glinted off a bright yellow racquet as the stranger took a swing, and Neil was going too fast to stop. Wood slammed into his gut hard enough to crush his lungs into his spine. He didn't remember falling, but suddenly he was on his hands and knees, scrabbling ineffectually at the floor as he tried to breathe. He'd puke if he could only manage that first gasp, but his body refused to cooperate.

[…] “If I can’t get an answer from you, I’ll get it wherever I can. How about I start with your parents?” “Good luck,” Neil said, feeling cold all over. “They’re dead.” “Did you kill them?” He [Andrew] said it so casually, like he was asking for the time, that Neil could only stare at him for a minute. It was such an unreasonable leap of logic Neil didn’t understand how he even thought to ask it. Then he remembered who he was talking to and asked, “Did you kill yours?

there's someone here to see you." To someone who'd spent half his life outrunning his past they were words from a nightmare.

Getting out took some serious wiggling since it wasn’t quite big enough for him, but desperation was a valuable lubricant.

Seth jeered at Matt's back as Matt left, then looked at Neil. "Maybe you're not as stupid as I thought." "Maybe I am," Neil said, and left Seth to finish his drink.

He is not a forgiving tutor, and he doesn't know how to be nice. Kevin can piss anyone off on an Exy court, up to and including a drugged Andrew. Well, anyone except Renee, but she's not human so she doesn't count." Neil looked at Andrew again. "I thought his medicine made that impossible." "Spring was a learning experience." Nicky propped his racquet against his shoulder and started for the door. "Wish you'd seen it. Andrew would've taken Kevin's head off if Kevin hadn't already thrown Andrew's racquet halfway across the court. I can't wait to see how you handle it.

How was he supposed to let Wymack lock the door every night with both of them under the same roof? He couldn't possibly sleep here; every time Wymack breathed Neil would wake up and wonder who was after him.

He [Neil] didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until a gunshot jarred him awake. Neil bolted upright so fast he sent his pile of textbooks crashing to the ground. Too late he realized the crack he’d heard wasn’t a gun but the lock snapping undone on the suite door.

– Não, o mundo não é cruel –, respondeu Neil. – São as pessoas que vivem nele.

Stop." "I'm not doing anything." "I told you not to look at me like that.

Shirt off.” Neil stared at her. “Why?” “I can’t check track marks through cotton, Neil.” “I don’t do drugs.” “Good on you,” Abby said. “Keep it that way. Now take it off.” […] “I want to make this as painless as possible, but I can’t help you if you can’t help me. Tell me why you won’t take off your shirt.” Neil looked for a delicate way to say it. The best he managed was, “I’m not okay.” She put a finger to his chin and turned his face back toward her. “Neil, I work for the Foxes. None of you are okay. Chances are I’ve seen a lot worse than whatever it is you’re trying to hide from me.” Neil’s smile was humorless. “I hope not. “Trust me,” Abby said. “I’m not going to judge you. I’m here to help, remember? I’m your nurse now. That door is closed, and it comes with a lock. What happens in here stays in here.” […] “You can’t ask me about them,” he said at last. “I won’t talk to you about it. Okay?” “Okay,” Abby agreed easily. “But know that when you want to, I’m here, and so is Betsy.” Neil wasn’t going to tell that psychiatrist a thing, but he nodded. Abby dropped her hand and Neil pulled his shirt over his head before he could lose his nerve. Abby thought she was ready. Neil knew she wouldn’t be, and he was right. Her mouth parted on a silent breath and her expression went blank. She wasn’t fast enough to hide her flinch, and Neil saw her shoulders go rigid with tension. He stared at her face as she stared at him, watching her gaze sweep over the brutal marks of a hideous childhood. It started at the base of his throat, a looping scar curving down over his collarbone. A pucker with jagged edges was a finger-width away, courtesy of a bullet that hit him right on the edge of his Kevlar vest. A shapeless patch of pale skin from his left shoulder to his navel marked where he’d jumped out of a moving car and torn himself raw on the asphalt. Faded scars crisscrossed here and there from his life on the run, either from stupid accidents, desperate escapes, or conflicts with local lowlifes. Along his abdomen were larger overlapping lines from confrontations with his father’s people while on the run. His father wasn’t called the butcher for nothing; his weapon of choice was a cleaver. All of his men were well-versed in knife-fighting, and more than one of them had tried to stick Neil like a pig. And there on his right shoulder was the perfect outline of half a hot iron. Neil didn’t remember what he’s said or done to irritate his father so much.

Wymack raked the group with a look “I don’t see any guests. Neil’s a fox. He’s not going to get any special treatment just because it’s his first day. Don’t want him thinking this team is anything but dysfunctional or June will be a rude wake-up call.

He remembered the black sands beach along California’s lost coast where his mother finally gave up the fight. He hadn’t even realized she’d been injured so badly after running into his father in Seattle. She’d bled most of the way though Oregon, but he hadn’t thought it was serious. He hadn’t known she was bleeding out on the inside, a kidney and her liver ruptured, her intestines bruised beyond repair. […] They stopped six feet from the tide and she made him repeat every promise she’d ever dragged out of him: don’t look back, don’t slow down, and don’t trust anyone. Be anyone but himself, and never be anyone for too long. By the time Neil understood she was saying goodbye, it was too late. She died gasping for one more breath, panting with something that might have been words or his name or fear. Neil could still feel her fingernails digging into his arms as she fought not to slip away, and the memory left him shaking all over. Her abdomen felt like stone when he touched her, swollen and hard. He tried pulling her from her seat only once, but the sound of her dried blood ripping off the vinyl like Velcro killed him. […] He hadn’t cried when the flames caught, and he hadn’t flinched when he pulled her cooling bones out. […] By the time he found the highway again he was numb with shock, and he lasted another day before he fell to his knees on the roadside and puked his guts out.

Jean held onto his control with everything he had left after such a nightmarish day, but he could feel his grip slipping. Endure, he warned himself, and on its tail-end came a desperate How much must I?