Steal Me!

<I>I had wrapped the tire iron carefully in towels good towels so it wouldn't mark him in any way or draw blood. I picked it up off the floor now with my right hand and swung like a tennis serve really and caught him at the back of his pewter hair. Perfect a perfect hit. He went over into the front seat and all I had to do was pull him in turn him--not so easy; he was heavy--and shut the door behind him. I looked carefully; he was still clutching the attaché--I knew he'd be awfully angry if we'd lost it--and gunned the car away from the curb. I don't think I even wondered if anyone noticed and I guess nobody did. This was New York.</p><center>___________________________________</center></p>We were going to my house; I didn't think much beyond that. He would be so happy so relieved to be there. I want to be with you he had said so many times. But you know I can't. And he had always smiled as he said this: Steal me.</p>I had only done what he wanted me to do.</p></I>