Although aware of what she was up against Christy slammed the drawer deliberately on the pistol, relief flooding through her when it disappeared from sight.
“What the f**k are you doing that for? I’m giving you a chance, don’t you see?
Christy slumped her weight back into the chair beside him once more. “I couldn’t take it, Bren, honest” she said quietly.
“You ain’t lost your bottle have you?” he challenged.
Christy tugged at her lower lip indecisively. “You know that ain’t the reason. Shooters have got me into enough trouble as it is. I’ll make it somehow as soon as I have the money. And don’t worry about me.” She touched her palm into his long brown hand resting on the table. “I can handle meself. Besides, I don’t want another murder wrap hanging over me head, do I? And if I’m tooled
