The man walked to Becca's driver's seat window and pulled out a gun, pointing it directly at her.
On seeing the gun, Becca's face paled and became as white as paper, with all the color draining from it. Her pulse throbbed in her temples and her heart drummed hard in her chest. Her eyes darted from the man's face to the gun in his hand as she choked down a sob, still visibly trembling on her seat.
It wasn't the first time she had seen a gun but it was the first time it had ever been pointed at her.
Becca's hands tightened on the steering wheel and her eyes never left the gunman in front of her.
She flinched when she saw the man's finger move to the trigger and franticly began shaking her head, her eyes pleading the man not to pull it.
