[Violence, which could trigger emotional distress, is found in this chapter. Certain scenes are graphic and could be upsetting to some. Proceed with caution. Discretion is advised.]
"Why did you shoot my left hand?" His saliva dripped from his mouth as he cried.
"Because you looked on your left when you said it was your right." Olivia deadpanned.
Bang!
"Now it's even," Olivia commented, shooting his right hand.
"You bitch! You were flirting with me! You were always smiling at me! You even sat on my lap when I asked you to!"
"Oh, no. You just didn't say that." Olivia laughed, her head thrown back. One more word out of this man's mouth would seal his fate. But that's not what she wanted to happen. She was no god. Death was something only the heavens could decide on.
Aiming the gun to Imman, Maxen kissed the shell of Olivia's ear. "Is that where you want to shoot?"
"Yes. Four times." Her lips quivered.
Pain. Revenge. Liberty.
