“Bullets have feelings, too,” she said to me as her hooded eyes peered over the profile of the magnum. “Don’t insult the bullet.” Her dusky voice held mischief and her smirk was hidden behind the gleaming gun.
I simply arched a brow, humoring her with a plastic smile and a nod of my head. Shifting uncomfortably in my fold-out chair, I glanced over my shoulder to the door where my buddy Rick had disappeared to go pick up his woman. I wished he would hurry ...
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