MALDINI’S POV
The rope tore into my skin with every move I made in my desperate attempt to feel comfortable.
The fact that my eyes were open but so dark was the room I was inside that I had no idea if it was daytime yet was gut wrecking.
Stale sweat ran down my brow as I moved against the wall, my legs numb. Pain shot up my left leg which required me to carry a cane, and I flinched, my head aching terribly.
The events of the previous night came rushing to me in torrents, how quickly everything had gotten out of hand. One moment I was on the stage trying to give a speech, and the next thing was chaos as shots rang out.
I had seen the young man's face.
To me, he wasn't more than twenty years old. How strong and brave could a twenty year old be to be able to carry out such an act?
