"Gun, gun, gun, gun..." The thought kept echoing around and around in Bosco's head.
Light exploded in Bosco's eyes.
She was home.
"Hey honey how was your day?" He asked, hoping that he sounded genuine.
"Fine, thanks, sweetie," she answered. Men never wanted to hear what really happened in your day. They didn't want to know the Mr Jones had thrown up on you or that Mr Smith needed an enema. Men wanted Little Suzy Sunshine, not some whiny bitch.
"How are you?" She reached out and touched his leg. Inside, Bosco recoiled, but he played it cool. He couldn't spoil the plan now.
"Gun, gun, gun.." The chant kept snaking through his head. He just had to keep his cool and get to his jacket.
"Fine thanks. But, um, I really need to go to the bathroom."
"Oh, of course, you poor thing!"
Bosco held his breath and prayed to God that she hadn't bought a catheter home with her.
God must have been listening, because she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key. She then unlocked his handcuffs.
Bosco gingerly lowered his arms.
He rubbed his wrists. They were starting to chafe, but he couldn't feel it.
Soon, the feeling would return to his arm, and pain would come flooding with it.
He stood and found his boxers, and put them on.
He stood there looking dazed.
"Um, where exactly is your bathroom?" He asked. By now he really did need to go.
She laughed. "Come on silly, I'll show you."
She showed him to the bathroom.
When he had finished, he quietly shut the door behind him and padded into the living room. He contemplated trying the door, but it was locked and he knew he wasn't getting out of there without a key.
"Gun, gun, gun..." If he could just get to his gun, he could force her to unlock the door for him and be gone.
His jacket was still there, hanging over the chair where he had left it the night before.
He tiptoed to his jacket, and picked it up. He rifled through his pockets.
"Looking for this?"
Her voice behind him startled him.
He turned to see her holding his gun.
"You know," She said, "this could end just like Romeo and Juliet."
He'd never read Romeo and Juliet, but he had the feeling that it didn't end with the hero getting his clothes back and going home.
In fact he had the feeling that it didn't end well at all.
Light exploded in Bosco's eyes.
She was home.
"Hey honey how was your day?" He asked, hoping that he sounded genuine.
"Fine, thanks, sweetie," she answered. Men never wanted to hear what really happened in your day. They didn't want to know the Mr Jones had thrown up on you or that Mr Smith needed an enema. Men wanted Little Suzy Sunshine, not some whiny bitch.
"How are you?" She reached out and touched his leg. Inside, Bosco recoiled, but he played it cool. He couldn't spoil the plan now.
"Gun, gun, gun.." The chant kept snaking through his head. He just had to keep his cool and get to his jacket.
"Fine thanks. But, um, I really need to go to the bathroom."
"Oh, of course, you poor thing!"
Bosco held his breath and prayed to God that she hadn't bought a catheter home with her.
God must have been listening, because she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key. She then unlocked his handcuffs.
Bosco gingerly lowered his arms.
He rubbed his wrists. They were starting to chafe, but he couldn't feel it.
Soon, the feeling would return to his arm, and pain would come flooding with it.
He stood and found his boxers, and put them on.
He stood there looking dazed.
"Um, where exactly is your bathroom?" He asked. By now he really did need to go.
She laughed. "Come on silly, I'll show you."
She showed him to the bathroom.
When he had finished, he quietly shut the door behind him and padded into the living room. He contemplated trying the door, but it was locked and he knew he wasn't getting out of there without a key.
"Gun, gun, gun..." If he could just get to his gun, he could force her to unlock the door for him and be gone.
His jacket was still there, hanging over the chair where he had left it the night before.
He tiptoed to his jacket, and picked it up. He rifled through his pockets.
"Looking for this?"
Her voice behind him startled him.
He turned to see her holding his gun.
"You know," She said, "this could end just like Romeo and Juliet."
He'd never read Romeo and Juliet, but he had the feeling that it didn't end with the hero getting his clothes back and going home.
In fact he had the feeling that it didn't end well at all.