“I think I’m under control, that I’ve stripped away all weaknesses. That committing to my mission has made me impervious. I’m wrong. The thought of Barrons smiling brings other thoughts.
Barrons naked.
Dancing.
Dark head thrown back.
Laughing.
The image doesn’t “gently swim up in my mind” in a dreamy sort of way, like I’ve seen in movies. No, this one slams into my head like a nuclear missile, exploding in my brain in graphic detail. I suffocate in a mushroom cloud of pain.
I can’t breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut.
White teeth flashing in his dark face: I get knocked down but I get up again. You’re never gonna keep me down.
I stagger.
But he didn’t get up, the bastard. He stayed down.”