"Still, you should tell me these things," Needy said, frowning some as she turned on the bench so she could actually face him more easily. "Because believe it or not, I worry about you sometimes." Okay, so she worried about him often. Because he was her best friend and this world was stock full of crazy. Yes, he could take care of himself, Needy was aware, but he'd gotten tortured just like she had.
And damn, Needy had felt great as she slaughtered that jerkoff band. She really did. Even looking back she liked the memories, even though she knew it was something that should scar her for life and freak her the fuck out. Problem was, Needy was already scarred for life in more ways than one. There was no more room for scars. Not when it came to violence, at least. Being a victim of it or causing it. Hell, the causing it was a blast for her, a fact that not many people knew.
But too bad for Cal Needy had those enhanced senses. "You're dreaming about it again?" she asked.