"The Right Man" is a crime/detective fiction short story.
I wasn’t out for long this time. I came to a few seconds later. Mary was still terrified, but now she was sitting down in a chair. Her door was shut and locked again. Standing near her was a man about my height. His dark brown hair was cut short. His face was bony and chiseled; he sported a thick five o’clock shadow. His black, beady eyes stared down at me with utter contempt. In his hand he held Mary’s small automatic; it was pointed at me.
“So you got this far, huh? I figured the cops would have picked you up by now. Or your pussy ass would have turned itself in long ago. You’ve got balls, asshole.” I may have had balls, but his work with the back of Mary’s pistol had scattered most of my brains. I’m still surprised it never bled.
“Leave him alone, Tommy.” Mary whimpered. She knew my time was on earth was running out; she was doing her best to grant me a stay of execution.
“Shut the f— up, bitch!” Tommy yelled. “You always bring f—ers like this around. Are you trying to make me jealous? Really! You’re such a f—ing slut!” Tommy turned and raised the hand with the pistol. Mary cowered. Tommy stopped in mid-swing and lowered his hand. With his other hand he reached up and stroked her cheek.
“I’m sorry, baby, you know my temper. I don’t mean anything by it.” Mary had completely shut down by this point. She had gotten as far away from this room as she could.
Tommy turned to me, his eyes were wild. The grin on his face said too much. The gun in his hand was doing enough talking as it was.
“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” He snarled at me. “You poke around the office. You find my pictures, you screw with my partner, and then you screw with my girl. You better be careful, friend, I’ve got a temper.” Tommy ran his thumb over the hammer of the pistol.
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