My gun was behind my back, but she could tell that something was not right.“The concierge sent me,” she said, obviously frightened. “Please don�...�t hurt me, Mister W,” she wailed as she burst into tears.“I won’t,” I said. Then I pushed the Glock into my belt in the back and showed both my hands as I continued, “Please take the cover off the cart... slowly.”She slowly lifted the cloth revealing a half-dozen motorcycle helmets sitting on the cart. “The concierge said that the one that fits will be. "His frown lifted, and he finally met my eyes, seeming to judge the truth of my words."I'm not in pain, love. A bit stiff, I have to admit, but nothing like what I would feel if you had hurt me."He relaxed, finally. "Maybe we should have Wynne check you out, just in case?" Again, what would I say? I fell down the stairs, could you see why I'm bleeding from the-" Okay, okay!" Are you that embarrassed by the word?"His expression became evasive. "What word?" Vagina."Evasive gave way to beet red.. More

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