I pulled the trigger with a blind confidence and the click confirmed everything I already knew. Like it did every night. The odds were always the same. Six cylinders, one bullet. I’d done this every night since I’d left prison. And death hadn’t taken me yet. So I knew with an unfaltering certainty that life would reside in my veins until I’d ripped every Harlequin from this world. Death was my only friend. And he’d given me another day. Another chance to make them bleed. And bleed they would.
