"Sorry, Uncle P," she gabbled. "I didn't think ..." Her confident, overtly sexual façade slipped away.Patrick sighed; saw an after image of the man s...rawled in the gutter; legs bent at impossible angles; some kind of vital liquid seeping from his ear; head concave and shattered like the broken shell of a hard-boiled egg. Patrick knew about physical trauma, had seen it first hand, even inflicted gaping wounds upon the enemy; he'd known the bloke was dead the moment he'd seen the prostrate, limp. He pushed her down into a sitting position on the end of it before dragging the table over to her. Falcon only had two chairs, really having no need for more, so tonight Daisy would use the bed. ‘Come on Jase, take a seat,’ Falcon said, acting like they were in the most normal situation in the world. He brought the pot of stew over to the table, setting it down along with bowls and spoons. Jason, still a little shaken from Daisy’s earlier freak out, cautiously sat down next to her. Falcon. More

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