Authors: Ken Bruen
He nodded.
“Christ Almighty . . .
all
of them?”
“Obstacles.”
“What!”
“To Lillian.”
“You’re a fuckin’ psycho.”
“How trite, how utterly predictable.”
I gut-shot him.
They say it’s the most intense pain in the world. Slumped in the doorway, he wasn’t arguing it. I stepped over him, and he grabbed at my ankle, said,
“Finish it.”
“Get fucked—” and I kicked him in the balls. Double his bet.
LILLIAN WAS
sitting up in bed, a pink shawl on her shoulders.
She gave me a smile, asked,
“What was that commotion, darling?”
“The butler did it.”
I lazily raised the gun at her, and she asked in a petulant voice,
“Oh silly, really, how am I supposed to react?”
My turn to smile. I said,
“You’re an actress. Try acting scared.”