He knew she was baiting him. Of course he knew. But every single one of those barbs hit home, and before he really had time to think about it, he was on his feet, his fists raised. Anger pulsed through him like a heartbeat, anger and grief and an incredible weariness. He swung for her jaw, his full weight behind the blow, moving with a gunslinger's speed...

...and stopped, his fist a few inches from making contact. His eyes were stinging and his breath came in hoarse rasps, but those rasps sounded a lot like laughter. "Good try," he said, bitterly, letting his hand drop to his side. "Bringing the girls into it. Nice touch. Did Ro' put you up to this, or did you come up with it all on your own?"

Spitting to one side, he turned on his heel to head up the path. "You don't want this. Go home."