THE g*n FELT COLD against Nelly’s temple. A tendril of sweat broke out beneath the barrel’s metal mouth, falling from the point of her forehead to her lips. Adrenaline screamed for her to fight back, but she suppressed the urge.
Anything that rattled this guy could result in her demise. She had to figure out a way to get the g*n from him. Nelly eyed the dark hands clutched around the butt of the weapon. He was holding it tightly, his fingers twitching near the trigger.
“One,” the man yelled.
Nelly’s breath hitched. She imagined what her parents would say when they found out that she’d been murdered—imagined her mom bawling and her father trying to choke back his tears. Catherine… what would she do? Probably pay for the funeral and call her sisterly duties done.
“Two…”
She still hadn’
