@st4rbright : i am your only way out of this. ( cliff. )
it's not a lie. not to cliff, anyway. it should be, but the devil's in the details there, in the way he's phrased it. charlie knows better. cliff works for sterling frost, the real sterling, not the adult kid who—
yeah. not the time to think about that.
she swallows. plants her feet, digging the heels of her shoes into the dirt like she could spring up and fly away. "it's funny that that's not bullshit. but, uh, i think we don't need to do the little song and dance, me and you, right? i mean." she points down at her side, where it still pulls when she moves, the hole marge fucking superglued back together for her in a new mexico parking lot. "you think my way out is probably dead, which we're not going to agree on. i actually kind of like being here."
one of charlie's shoes slips backwards, just a little. can she even take getting shot again?
she's still got the bottle of superglue in her glovebox, so maybe.
a pause. "have you thought about a vacation? i'm serious, man. you've been chasing me for a few months over this. don't you have, y'know, a wife? husband, partner, whatever? non-judgmental here, i swear."
