She threw a peanut at me. “My point is that Junie knows all of this, too. Probably better than anyone except that ol’ teddy bear Rudy Sanchez. She knows about your damage, and she loves you anyway. Loves you with her whole heart, and that is a considerable thing to say, especially when there’s no exaggeration in the observation. And before you open your mouth and say something dumb, I have a bit of insight into her, too. We had a lot of long, good talks. She opened up to me. I know about her—how should I phrase this?—unusual genetic history. I know that she has been badly hurt a few times because she’s in your life. That maniac who shot her, all those glass cuts she got during that hospital attack, and then getting impaled Christmas Eve.”

“That’s my point,” I said. “All I can offer her is pain. I’m nothing but bad luck to her. And, besides, she doesn’t know about the Darkness.”

Jean got up, walked over to stand in front of me, leaned down to place both hands on the arms of my chair.

“You listen to me, Joseph Edwin Ledger,” she said sternly. “Junie Flynn is my friend, and you will not sit on my sundeck and bad-mouth her.”

“I didn’t,” I protested. “I’m talking about myself and—”

“Do I have to hit you? I know you’re fast, but I bet you I’ll get a damned good one in if you keep talking like that.”

I said nothing.

“Do you think that Junie defines her life, her happiness, her love on whether you can keep her safe? Do you think she’s such a fragile maiden that she needs you to protect her from the big bad world? God, and here I thought you were one of the enlightened ones. A male who doesn’t think his woman revolves around him like a moon.”

“I—”

“Do you think she’s so shallow that she’d just bail when it all got tough? She was born to a tough life. Every bit as tough as yours, but without the support system you had with your folks and with Rudy. She’s brave and brilliant and, for some damned reason, is committed to you. Sure, there’s no marriage certificate, but she’s in it for better or worse, in sickness and in health.”

“She doesn’t know what I’ve done,” I said. “What I’ve been through since—”

She was right; she did get in a good one. Two, actually. A sharp slap that knocked my face sideways and a backhand that banged me straight again. Then she leaned forward until her nose was an inch from mine.