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No More Tony 

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Cherry poked the gun barrel in Tony’s ear.

“Move,” Cherry snapped, “and no more Tony.”

He opened his eyes. “You smell like gin.”

“Shut up—”

“Put down the gun.”

“No!” Cherry sneered.

Tony grabbed at the barrel, then heard the click of the hammer.

“Okay,” Tony said and let go.

Cherry stepped away and switched on the bedside lamp.

Tony squinted. “You’re getting ballsy.”

“Here,” she said, “handcuff yourself around the headboard spindles…like you used to make me.”

“Kitten, this isn’t like you—”

Cherry jabbed the gun at his face. “Put’m on.”

Tony clicked the handcuffs. “Now what?”

“You gotta stop…or else.”

Tony laughed. “Or else what?”

“You prick! Because of you, I can’t look’m in the face.”

“Kitten, told you not to testify at the grand jury. Now the Feds got me up for racketeering. Corruption, too.”

“No more. No more sending my old selfies to my parents.”

“Got plenty more,” said Tony. “Just tell the Feds you made a mistake.” He gave her a half-smile. “Come on. Move back. It’ll be like old times.”

“I’d lick the toilets in your crummy pizza shops first.”

Tony smirked. “Still got a real nice selfie. Remember doing the dog?”

Her face contorted. “You mother! You got me high when we took that.” She pulled the trigger.

Tony blinked.

Cherry grinned. “No bullets,” and threw down the gun.

Tony exhaled, then winked. “Come on baby. I missed you.”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah. Really did. Nobody cleans the bathroom and does the laundry like you.”

Cherry’s face reddened. She yanked off his bed sheets and eyed the bulge in Tony’s boxers. “You still got that sharp butcher’s knife?”

“You bitch!”

She ran from the room.

Tony yelled, “I’ll kill you.”

Cherry turned on the kitchen light. She sniffed, then covered her nose. Food-crusted dishes and crushed beer cans littered the counters. So did half-empty takeout containers. Her eyebrows raised, and her mouth curved into a smile.

After a few minutes, she strolled into Tony’s bedroom empty handed.

“Knew you were gutless,” Tony grinned. “Now let me go.”

Cherry smiled. “After.”

She lifted her skirt and straddled him.

“Oh! So you want to play.”

Cherry clamped Tony’s head with her hands and kissed him long and twirled her tongue deep into his mouth. She pulled back, inhaled then waited.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. His lips swelled. His tongue curled in his mouth. Tony gasped for air. He yanked at the handcuffs and motioned to his side table.

Cherry rolled off Tony. “I can’t understand you. Cat got your tongue, Baby?” She straightened her skirt. “What’s that? You asking if I ate shellfish? You wanna know if I ate that crab cake from the carryout box in my car?” Cherry slid a fingernail between her teeth. “Maybe.” She licked a piece of crab from her finger.

After Tony stopped breathing, Cherry removed the handcuffs and pocketed his EpiPen from the side table. She sneered. “No more Tony.”

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Luke Walters writes from sunny Arizona and takes inspiration from the people he’s met and things he’s seen in his travels around the world. Educated as an engineer, he’s been writing short stories since childhood. His last published story can be found on Amazon in “Envision Future Fiction”, an anthology compiled by Kathy Steinemann.

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