"Tessa Beneveau may be a beautiful woman," complained Decker McBide, "but she is no lady." He finished cleaning his six shooter, refilling the chambers with his custom made bullets.
Winston James smiled, his feet crossed on the desk between them, "But Decker, she is very beautiful."
Decker clicked the gun's cylinder home and sighted his weapon before dropping it back into his leather holster. "This time, I don't think it'll be enough."
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