"I know I'm married," Kavinsky said, almost a growl. That was what had started this whole mess of Jack needing to figure this out. He kicked a pebble down the road. "And I'm not going to act like I'm not, but if you're going to get flighty and weird about me wearing my ring when we're fucking around with each other--I don't wear it when I dance, either. It's not like the tattoos."

Newt and Al were permanently etched into Kavinsky's skin, and there was no escaping that. Just like there was no escaping the poison symbol just above Jack's groin. The ring was incidental to knowing where they'd always end up.

"And you didn't do it wrong, last time," Kavinsky said, sucking in more smoke, working through the cigarette with a nervous energy. "We need boundaries. You need them. Poison needs them."