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He hit her in the mouth with his g*n, loosening two teeth and breaking a third. She tasted blood and pieces of her gum and swallowed part of one shattered molar. No. He hit her again in the stomach and she doubled over. He stomped on her right hand, snapping two fingers. He crushed her left knee with another blow. Now! Reggie, she muttered as the blood trickled down her face. Reggie, what? Mirabel Campion. Well, Mirabel Campion, now you’ll know. Know what? What it feels like to die in beautiful Provence. He motioned to one of his men, who came forward with the canister. A moment later Mirabel could taste the petrol as it poured over her, clogging her nostrils, stinging her eyes. She wanted to be brave. But she heard herself scream, No, please. Don’t. Like a child. Pathetic. Weak
- Writer
