"I-It"s not random. It"s about F-Fennec. Someone from her past," his voice audibly trembled as he rushed the words out. I watched as he pressed himself back into the counter of the workstation.
"Keep talking," my tone was one of mild interest.
"You-you"re still going to shoot me, aren"t you? Even if I do tell you," he asked as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. I watched as his Adam"s apple bobbed.
My shoulders shrugged, as if I hadn"t decided yet, refusing to give him an answer. The slick sheen of sweat on his brow and along his hairline told me just how terrified he actually was. The smell of his fear in my nostrils was intoxicating, a drug I just couldn"t get enough of.
The resignation that flickered across his face told me that I was winning without even trying. Lackluster
