Michael Malone - Weebly

hear me?" Then he unzipped and opened his pants. It
had happened, and now he couldn't stop. "Okay.
There! Now, you look, you look now!"
He could see the print of his hand reddening her
cheek. There were tears spilling out of her eyes, but she
wasn't crying aloud. The only noise she made was a
harsh breathing. Barnum had his hand on the gun in his
pocket, squeezing it as he watched her; and when she
still would not look, he pulled it out, pressed the muzzle
next to her neck, and flipped her hair outward. He kept
gulping so that he could breathe. "You listen to Lime,"
he said, himself listening to many years of books and
magazines. "I'm not kidding. I don't want to have to kill
you, so you look up here and see what ole Lime's got
for you."
He stuck the gun under her chin and tilted it.
"That's right, that's right," he whispered. Pulling up
his shirt, he thrust the purplish flesh out at her. "How do
you like that, huh? All of a sudden, you can see me
good. All these years you wouldn't look.
Now it's too late."
She twisted her back to him when he reached out,