Fear flooded Jake’s eyes. Anthony’s lips curled into a slow smirk as he reached over and plucked the gun from the police officer’s holster.
“If I pull this trigger,” Anthony said, the smirk deepening, “it’s bye-bye.”
“Anthony… I mean, sir… please don’t,” Jake begged, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean any of those things I said. I’ve divorced Anna. She’s all yours now, okay? Please don’t shoot.”
A harsh, jagged laugh tore out of Anthony.
“You know what I love most?” he said, still chuckling like a madman. “The way you beg for your life so pathetically. It makes me so happy.”
Jake’s legs shook beneath him. A hot rush of urine soaked through his pants and trickled down his thigh. He did not want to die. Not like this.
“You don’t need to worry,” Anthony said at last. “I won’t kill you, Jake
