Cutting Eye Teeth

I followed her to a rundown motel in the middle of the desert.

“Look honey,” I said, “this won’t end well. Your husband sent me to protect you.”

She laughed.

“Do I look like I need protection?”

I started to answer but she pressed one finger to my lips and her body moved into my arms.

“You’re right,” she whispered.

I grabbed her shoulders, staring into the dark sunglasses.

“Right about what?”

She pressed into me and removed her sunglasses, staring with bottomless eyes ringed with tiny sharp teeth. They looked hungry.

“This won’t end well,” she replied, “for you.”