We all get hurt. I think a lot of us get killed.”Tricia shot a look at her older sister. “Is this what you were talking about? Waves of alternate ...ersions of me all coming in, holding our heads and throats, being killed off by Desdemona?”She nodded. “Yeah. Waves of us. I’ve seen dozens, hundreds maybe. The injuries are all different, but the situation is always the same. They come in, they say how they got hurt, and they stay on the train for a couple stations, and then they leave.”“And you. Now comes my dilemma: sex can't pay the rent or but the beer, but it can ease the tension.Let's face it, in my line of work, we're all as tense as our trigger fingers.I take my jacket off and she moves for my buttons. She keeps those baby blue eyes on me, but i can't help but look at the bright red, pouty lips. Her pitch black hair nicely frames her pale skin and slender jaw line, and that red in that white nearly gives me a hardon all on it's own.My jacket and shirt are lying on that wooden. More

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