Assume twelve. That means three rounds left. I’ve got to make it to the dumpster. He took a deep breath. The Package was at his feet. That’s what ...e called him: The Package. No point getting personal. They wouldn’t know each other for long. He might even be dead soon. Who knew? No point being on a first name basis with a corpse. ‘Get the fuck up,’ he said. ‘We have to make it to the dumpster. Can you make it?’ The Package was breathing heavily. He was out of condition. He nodded.. Her anger remained, but she controlled it with an effort spurred by the phantom thought of self-preservation. ‘What the fuck, Stacy? Babs gets pissed off and, like, walks out on me, and now she’s here and you guys had sex?’ ‘Shelly, Barb said she loves you. When Ah called y’all to tell ya Ah was serious as a heart attack. As soon as she said that, we stopped.’ ‘But why’d you . . . guys—’ Shelly began to cry. ‘I love her, Stace, and you two went behind my back.’ Her voice hardened and she. More

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