“Gonna go powder my nose,” Ellie whispered and got up. The pistol showed when he leaned forward to caress her thigh as she slid past him. Tucked in a shoulder rig, the holster’s black leather was stark on his white shirt in the flickering light. A large caliber. Tony was a big bullet kinda guy. Instead of going to the lady’s room, she paused at one side of the theater, scanned the seats, and checked the stiletto in the sheath strapped to her forearm. The long sleeves were loose, covering the latest bruises, and she could get the knife out easily. The flick was a dud, few people here, she thought, but Tony loved any movie, and she’d done her research. The scene was coming with the train screaming by as the woman was killed by the man she had fallen in love with. Stroking the blade a last time, she straightened from the wall. She didn’t love Tony anymore, but he wouldn’t let her go. The brutal bastard didn’t know anything about her real past… so, she’d free herself.