Susie squinted un-easily into the sun-set. She had a feeling that some-where out there, Lorenzo was coming for her.
‘God-damn you,’ she murmured to her-self. Almost un-consciously, her hand drifted to her gun-belt and rested there, wait-ing. It had been nearly four-teen years now. May-be four-teen-and-a-half. Hadn’t she earned her-self some res-pite? How long could a man be drive-n by that kind of hat-red? How long be-fore it bur-ned a-way, leaving only ash-es be-hind? There was no-thing - ab-sol-ute-ly no-thing - she would-n't do to be able to a-band-on her past and be-gin a-fresh some-where el-se.
‘F---,’ s-he mut-te-red.