Becca's eyes had been fixed on the door's wooden frame, sitting still, listening. She had listen for hours. No one came.
As though from sheer force of will, the hinges creaked. Turned. Someone stepped in. He wasn't one she had seen before, barely a few inches taller than her. He had a lean build, almost lanky in appearance. She thought; If there was one of them she could take in a fight, it would be him. He didn't bother hiding the blatant way his gaze ran over her body.
Becca felt bile hit the back of her throat.
" You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He shut the door behind him.
Becca sprang to her feet the moment he took the first step closer. Her eyes fell on the pistol tucked into his waistband for a fleeting second before returning her gaze back on him. Dread churned in her stomach, her heart slamming against her chest.
