Quinn swiveled around to look at Alyssa, before quickly deciding that might not be a great idea.  He hadn't felt it before last night, but now that the truth had been revealed, whenever he looked at her he got violent flashes in his head.
[i]Sweat.  Blood.  Tears.  A knife.  Begging.  Pleading.  Howling.  Laughing.  LeftHookRightHookThunderSilence....repeat...[/i]
He was sure of it now.  He was sure it had been him.  There was no denying it.  The callous thing would be to deny it, claim ignorance, but that wouldn't be right.  Rather, the right thing to do would be ignore it for now.  
Deal with the very real, very present threat to the group and try not to reflect on the path that led him to them.  Quinn had never much cared for the idea of a deeper meaning or a larger plan.  He had always been a simple man with no need for those kind of ponderous musings.  

Time and tragedy changes all.  In an incredibly morbid twist, that was something he and Alyssa shared.  That quiet revelation sent a chill shooting down his spine.
He turned instead to Celty.
"Fingers crossed your fortunes don't run out, and they cover all our asses.  Don't count on them though.  We'll encounter them sooner or later."