“I’ve never done anything like this with anyone,” Corinne Glint said.
Traffic paid them no mind. Corinne and her boyfriend Bid Lovey were just another young Georgia couple in a rattletrap Mustang parked curbside. Old women, wobbling by on canes, gave them disapproving scowls. Bid, who had boxed in prison, returned their dirty looks, whistling through his mashed nose.
“I’ll be gentle,” he said.
“You won’t leave me?”
“We’re in this for life.”
“Bid, by your shark-gray eyes I can tell that’s true.”
“Good,” he said. “Baby, put on your mask, pick up that gun, and follow me into the bank.”