Ruth's POV
I was frozen in the doorway, my hands shaking. My heart pounded so loud I could feel its beat echoing inside my ears. He, Frank Xia, towered over the man slumped on the ground and drenched in blood. The dim light from the flickering bulb above gave the shadows long fingers and made the scene surreal. The hammer in his hand shone faintly, the metal slick with red.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But my voice seemed stuck somewhere in my throat, my legs rooted to the ground. Frank's head turned reluctantly, his sharp eyes—hawk-like—catching mine. For a split second, something danced across his face, but it was gone as quickly, leaving only the same chilling expression he always wore.
What are you doing?" My voice was hoarse, just a little above a whisper. My chest seemed to clench tight under the direct look of his eyes.
