a bullet between your eyes!” Berkleigh replied, her hands raising the gun to the desired height to blow a very large hole out the back of Grimaldi’s cranium. 

“I don’t think either one of us wants a bullet between my eyes and I’ve brought plenty to the table since I took you in after your mother died,” Grimaldi stated in the face of Berkleigh’s unflinching physiology. Her finger tightened around the trigger as the surgeon maintained a resolute front in the face of the firearm.  

“You’d be lost without me, Berkleigh - a Jane Doe in a morgue anywhere from here to San Francisco or Las…,” Grimaldi never got the chance to complete his sentence courtesy of two bullets fired directly through the middle of his fo...

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