You Don't Always Need Protection
I advanced on her. “Give it up, doll. I’m warning you just this once; I’ll shoot you if you make me.” I was bluffing, of course. I’d left my .38 at home like a goddamn rookie. What was I supposed to do, ask the chief for an spare one? So I’d gone out on the job without my piece this one time, thinking that all I’d have to deal with was the usual side-street andies that had “lost” their ethics codes. It might have even been funny in a different context.
Her laughter rung mockingly in my ears as her gaze skipped down my body. “Sugar, I can see that you ain’t carrying.” She casually gestured with her tiny black pistol in my direction. So much for that. I never had a very good poker face. I could feel the sweat trickling down the back of my neck as we circled each other in the tiny apartment. There was no way I was coming out of this one. Unless…
I charged forward suddenly, surprising her, and hugged her stiffened body to mine. She had a second to utter a breathless “What?” before I pressed my lips to hers.