Ignoring her, Paul got up and crossed over to the window, peeking out behind curtains and bars, mumbling off a mental checklist.

“Gun, we’ll need a gun. Two guns. No…three guns. One for you, two for me…”

“Paul!” Velvet snapped, “Get ahold of yourself! How are we going to get three guns? Do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

“Well, it doesn’t look that hard…” he said, still ignoring her, “Look, I’ll leave and I’ll head out into the city and get some guns, then I’ll come back.”

“How do I know you’re coming back?” She asked, her eyes showing her fear.

“I will, Velvet, I promise you,” Paul said softly. Velvet leapt up from the bed and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly.

“You can’t leave me here, you just cant,” she wailed, now turning from seductive to desperate. Paul stood there, letting her hold him, feeling her tears wet through his shirt. He stopped for a moment, letting the tug in his heart pull him down deeper and deeper, and he hugged her back.