There’s a loud sound coming from the gun, resembling a fan. I can barely hear it over the blood rushing in my ears. Taking a second, I stumble back and fall to my shaky knees, tears running down my face along with snot and sweat. He lies there motionless, and I hold my fingers over the trigger, ready to shoot him again if I need to.
I just need a second to regroup. To catch my breath. I’m suffocating with this duct tape on my face.
The front door opens, and I push myself up against the side of the couch as Mike enters.
“Holy shit.” His wide eyes look over his house before they land on me.
I can’t speak. The tape is too thick around my mouth for me to remove, and I’m not letting go of my only weapon. I’m still not even sure how to use it.
“You’re okay,” he says gently, his eyes falling
