Let your imagination take the wheel.

The desert wind pressed dust onto my beaten, black leather boots. The sound of a gunshot still rang in the air as I watched the recently dead body lie in the dirt. My partner stood a few yards away with his back to me, staring at the man he had just killed—his posture rigid, his outline beautiful. His thin boots suddenly came to life and kicked some dust into the dead man’s face as the wind carried a quiet curse to my ears. In moments, the guilty gun was twirled and re-holstered before its owner turned and looked at me. Dingy brown hair whipped around and into hardened, bright blue eyes. Malice scorched me as he continued to stare.

“What do you think of me, now?” he muttered. His voice was harsh from the nicotine habit he had taken up recently. The red lipstick that I had caked onto my lips twelve hours ago cracked as I smirked at his smugness.  I had to admit, I was impressed that he was willing to kill; yet, I still somehow wasn’t impressed with him.

“Listen, cowboy, just because you’ve wasted one guy doesn’t mean you’re suddenly king of the outlaws, you hear me? Get in the damn car,” I replied just as quietly before snubbing my cigarette and holstering my gun. I still did not understand how I had managed to get paired up with this guy: he came from a small farm in eastern Nebraska and had absolutely no experience with bounty hunting…or killing. Luckily, his smoldering good looks made up for his clumsy, childish naivety.