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He was hit somewhere high up in the chest. Even horribly injured, the only thing on his mind was to try and come help us. That guy was a real man.I stumbled to him, moved his hand off the bloody mess, and used my own to apply pressure to his gaping wound. Whatever they had been using went right through his vest. He was holding on, but only barely. He was talking so fast I couldn’t understand a word he said, but eventually he spoke clearly enough for me to hear that the police had been notified were on the way.That was my signal to toss the shotgun aside and try to look helpless and pathetic, which was a look I’d pretty much perfected in my time as Ross and Terry. With little to do but hold pressure against his chest, I tried to remain conscious until help finally arrived.As the seconds and minutes ticked away, Evie and Deirdre hollered from behind the locked bedroom doors. I yelled back, as much as I could for them to stay down and keep the door locked. My bodyguard hung on to life. She reaches for her jewellery clipping silver drop earrings to her ears, fastening a matching pendant around her neck and sliding bracelets over both wrists.She puts rings on the fourth and index fingers of both hands.The ensemble is completed with a tight black satin-lined leather skirt and a mauve satin blouse. She slips on black high-heel pumps and sprays herself liberally with perfume."Well I hope they like what they are getting," Michele says to the empty room.Michele drains her wine, pours another and drains that and then pours another."Here's to you, you mukhannath shermuta! You transvestite whore!" she giggles, quite drunk now."What did that black cunt say; 'be compliant but don't behave like a whore', I can do that." Michele looks at the clock and as it ticks over to nine PM the door opens.In walks the man she knows as Sadan and another she hasn't seen before.They stride into the room as if they own it; which they do."What the fuck have you got here Sadan?" the other man.
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