“I have a bean-bag gun.” Marco nodded. “That seems fair, doesn’t it?” Damon threw his hands in the air. “Not the face—I have to go to court.” Tasha patted his shoulder as she went into the house. Marco tried and failed to hide his grin. “You’re an ass,” Damon said. “No, I’m not. I know you—you’ll obsess about this unless you feel that you’ve paid for your crime.” “Okay, maybe. But you don’t have to look so happy about it.” “Someday you will see how funny this is.” “It’s not funny. Look what I did to her face.” “And if it was anyone but you who’d done it I’d kill them. But you didn’t hit her out of anger or rage. It was part of a plan. Her plan. You’re the one who said we had to trust her expertise.” “I know I did, but when I said that I didn’t…I didn’t care about her.”
