The roar grew. Engine noise built off of it—limousines and full-dress Harley-Davidsons.
They left the door open. He had Barb to himself and couldn’t hear a word she was singing.
He watched her. He made up his own words. She held him with her eyes and her mouth.
The roar did a long slow fade. He braced himself for this big fucking scream.
— American Tabloid