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Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?

Jennifer Estep

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Jennifer Estep
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Author
Writer
Someone
Trying
Kind
Etiquette
Murder

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They’d played “Sweet Home, Alabama” so many times I wanted to crash the party, kill the radio, and knife whoever was selecting the music.
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You're mine, Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.
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She doesn't even know how to kill things properlike? What kind of girl have you given me to, goddess? Vic protested, fixing his eye on Nike once more. Nike let out a laugh. Vic is a little bloodthirsty. You'll get used to it.
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Finn regarded pesky little things like wedding bands, engagement rings, and jealous, hulking menfolk more as amusing challenges than immovable obstacles that could be hazardous to his health.
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No matter what happens, I'll always come back to you. Promise? I asked in a shaky voice. Logan's eyes burned with icy determination. Promise.
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You're just jealous. Hardly. Been there, done you. Adequate, but unremarkable.
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But I'd much rather face a dozen assassins like LaFleur any night than deal with something as tricky, convoluted, and fragile as my feelings.
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Don't you agree, fuzzball?
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Easy was for people too weak to suck it up and do what needed to be done. And I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.
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Well, what did you have for lunch?” I snapped. “Surely that’s not top secret superhero information.” “Steak with mashed potatoes and a side salad,” Striker replied. “And a piece of chocolate cheesecake for dessert.” I gave up on conversation after that. I was too jealous of the cheesecake to continue.
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Killing people was far easier than making polite chitchat.
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The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.
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I know, I know. But I can always kill him later. This way, at least we get to humiliate him first.” Finn eyed me. “Sometimes I think you’re even more devious, twisted, and vicious than I am.” I grinned. “You only wish you could be as ruthless as me.” “Absolutely.
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I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.
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I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.
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Are you OK? I asked. I think so. Logan stared at me, and a smile pulled up his lips. But maybe you should give me mouth-to-mouth, just to make sure.
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What was it with people always trying to kill me in the library? Nickamedes so needed to put up warning signs. Danger: Working here could be hazardous to your health.
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He gave me his word. That means something to a man like Donovan Caine. Yeah, it means you'll realize he's an exceptionally good liar when you're clutching your intestines and choking on your own blood on his living room floor.
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Keep the change, Gin, McCallister said in a smarmy, mocking voice. Consider it an early Christmas present. Aw, I drawled. A whopping thirteen cents. You're too kind, Jonah. Why, you'd put Ebezener Scrooge to shame with your bighearted generosity.
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Instead, I cut him. Not deep, but there was enough of a sting in the wound to remind him of what I'd done to the dwarven mobsters in the parking lot - and that I wasn't just some chick with a knife who looked good in black.
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