And now he thought himself funny, did he? "'Cause yer so --" Her ire was cut off as she remembered the gun, the bullet, the boy, his boot. She raked a hand through her hair, pulling her legs up so she could better control the urge to kick him.
Her hair was all in her face. Her lips were empty without a bottle, a smoke, something to keep them occupied.
"Yer not as fun when ye ain't been drinkin'. Scales, sometimes ye ain't even fun then."
Her hair was all in her face. Her lips were empty without a bottle, a smoke, something to keep them occupied.
"Yer not as fun when ye ain't been drinkin'. Scales, sometimes ye ain't even fun then."
