Smog City: A Girl and a Gun
A girl and a gun, that’s how I always knew I was gonna go. My stupid sense of chivalry and my blind spot for dangerous ladies was gonna catch up to me eventually, one way or another, that much was certain.
Looking down the flashy end of a gun barrel, I raised my hands and took in her curves. Lithe, full, barely clothed, since all she had was a bedsheet held in front of her, she meant business. Her blue eyes and her blonde hair would have made her a living work of art under different circumstances.
Heck, I had even brought my stupid carcass on the hotel that was close to the water, making it easy for her to straight-up dump me into the port.
And the day had started out so well.
I was in my office, as usual. It’s nothing much, four walls and a semblance of a
