Bullet Proof

"Kiss me again," she told him.


"It won't kill you. Besides–can you think of a better way to die?"


She was as pretty a mantrap as Liddell had ever set eyes on. Five-feet-six. Black hair. One hundred and twenty-eight lusciously distributed pounds. Very, very nice...


Liddell looked at his watch. The rackets boss was late in coming. Liddell didn’t mind. Let Frankie Capolla be as late as he wanted. Liddell knew a very good way of passing the time.