"And what about you? Will you forget about me?" he asked. His exhaustion made it sound ominous. She had difficulty thinking of what to say."Yeah, I'll...forget about you," she admitted finally. She was not really sure of her answer; she just did not want to keep his hopes up. She still believed that what they had just done was wrong, no matter how much she enjoyed it.After sitting on the floor together for a long time, the two of them finally stood up and exited the stall. As expected, they found. It was downright demeaning but he shrugged it off and went back to his newspaper and the all-important racetrack reports that had mixed results. His sideline of taking bets for bored housewives was his primary source of income and he had the perk of sometimes collecting his debts in an unorthodox manner.Danny was still limping from a sprain he sustained running from scene of a minor kneecapping of a known informer with blood on his hands. It had been a trying exercise because he knew the man as. More

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