My heart rejoiced as she appeared, though her face bore no joy. Her velveteen hand took mine sharply, and we were out of the bottle. The man in the room, a towering figure in dark shades, presumably explained her ill mood.

“You two had ‘nuff fun?” he asked from under the wide brim of his weather-beaten hat. She shrugged. I wanted to say yes, but I shook my head no. He sighed.

She shot pertly, “So, this is only a game men are allowed to play?”

“Watch yer tongue, girl,” he quipped gruffly, “I came ta free you and kill ‘im. But now you’re as guilty, an he’s as victimly.”

“But…” she tried. I wished I could have spoken, but I had not yet been bade.

“But nothin,” the man said firmly, “Turnabout ain’t nothin but revenge wrapped up all purty like. Right is right. Wrong is wrong.” He sighed, eyed us both, and spat something dark onto the carpet.

“What now?” my lover challenged.

“Now, we does it tha hard way. Come on, issa long journey ta break tha spell entirely, and I ain’t in th mood ta wait.