The zap of violence that shoots down my spine is irrational, but it’s violence nonetheless. Without thinking twice, I twist my fist into the base of her hair and yank her backward, until her back is flush with my chest.
“You’d be stupid to mistake my obsession with you as me being a limp-dick little bitch, Queenie. I’ll play your games and jump through all your hoops until you blow the whistle on full-time. But what I won’t do is tolerate you mentioning another man, hypothetical or otherwise.”