’ He managed to get into a chair and started ranting about what was going to happen to her son. She aimed the pistol right between his eyes. ‘Whoa lady, stop! We can work something out.’ She smiled, and with her pale skin and the white sundress, he thought she looked like the angel of death. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to pull your phone out, call your partner, and deliver my soon back to me. If he’s over fifteen minutes away, I shoot you again. You have three minutes.’ Dave ranted, he cursed. He stalled. When the three minutes were up, she shot him in the top of his wounded foot. He screamed and cried. She tossed him more towels. ‘Three minutes, then it’s through the ankle. Next three minutes, the kneecap. Three minutes later, I blow off one of you balls. Three minute later, the other ball. After that, I’ll consider you a lost cause and watch you bleed out.’ He looked at her with sheer hatred, but dialed the phone. ‘We’re done here. Bring him back and dump him at end. Disgusted with himself for being a patsy. Disgusted that he was forced to lie here like an invalid. And disgusted that he couldn’t do a damn thing about any of it, including handling the pretty feline that was leaning in close with cherry lips just inches from his, listening to his chest with her stethoscope. “I’ve got to get out of here, Mona.” “Shh.” “I mean it.” “Mr. Gafferson…” “Call me, Moe.” “All right, Moe.” She left the bell of the stethoscope on his chest but took the prongs out of her ears. “You can’t rush these things.” “I’m going to end up in the nuthatch. Lying in bed with no purpose can drive a man crazy.” “You need a purpose?” Mona’s hand remained on his bare chest, warm and soft like a cuddling kitten. “You’re making nice progress. Who knows, if you’re a good boy, tomorrow we might try sitting in the chair.” “I’d rather be sitting at a bar drinking a Jack D.” “And I’d rather be dancing, but I’ve got work to do. And you need to concentrate on getting better.” Her.
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