Tag Archives: Christine Cameron

He kisses me, maybe to stop me from saying anything. What could either of us say anyways? There are things that just are because they are. Fate. They can’t be explained, and maybe shouldn’t be. So he kisses me. Sometimes it’s better to just be quiet. It’s not complicated.

They’d been coming in, in one’s and two’s, for the back half of the night. It had been let slip that all of us would be here, alone. That I would be here. Seems that I was the clincher, it being the second time I had pulled a shotgun in the bar, against these guys.

Can’t help but be happy with myself, her legs shaking just a little, as I watch her hips sway, making her way to the bathroom. I’ll join her in a minute. I’m a little shaky myself. At this pace we’ll both be dead in a week. Not a bad way to go.

They nabbed us coming out of the bank. Fucking dirty cops. We had gone with Sal, no walking anywhere for a while. Fortunately I left the gun in the car. Sal left, the second he saw the cops. Good. I’m used to this. Christine isn’t. All I can do is look at her, and hope [...]

Tension pours back into him, as we near the back of the bar. A dark town car squats low, lurking, behind the dumpster. Two heads within. His hand on my hip. I’m no longer a thing held but a thing owned, his easy stride grown cautious and purposeful. An air of violence that eases, only [...]