"I wish I could say the same." Regina saw the round the corner, greasy men with rifles and machine guns. In the center was Vulture, wearing a black suit and looking like a nightmare. James stood with
his arms tied behind his back. He spotted her in the car and shook his head.
"Now we make the trade."
Paul told her not to trust him, and she took his advice very seriously. The man holding James untied him then shoved him forward, practically making him fall to the ground. He was thinner than he once was and much weaker.
He slowly walked to the car, sporting an obvious limp in his stride. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, the aftermath of his ten days of torture. After an eternity he finally reached the car and got into the passenger door.
She stared at him, taking comfort in knowing he was alive.
As he walked toward her, he stared at her as if looking at the most hated thing in this world. "What the fuck are you doing?"
