Balance precarious. Yes, I can actually use words like that. Indian sex I was pretty sure I was out of rum. It was a fine poker face. Only, it wasn’t closed now. She had enough coming in her these last couple of days without my adding God’s juice to the mix. And whether that’s out of fear or pleasure is up to you. Candy was standing three feet from me. I could see something sharp and shiny in there. I looked up and winked at my signed photo of Clint, cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth, hat blocking out only enough sun that he still had to squint. She made a simple, swift movement and brought the fine blade up to my chest, right where I imagine my chicken-beating heart was. Goddamn everything about Candy was fine. I was familiar with stilettos. Goddamn everything about Candy was fine. Something sacrilegious about it. Dehydrated. I wiped my fingers off on my leg. She made a simple, swift movement and brought the fine blade up to my chest, right where I imagine my chicken-beating heart was.
