The silver moonlight was swallowed by the clouds again, and a chilly drizzle had started to fall.
Megan gripped her M9 tightly, eyes sweeping around with caution. She took a step back, only to feel something cold and hard press against her lower back.
She didn't dare to move—if the i***t behind her pulled the trigger, that'd be it.
A clean death was one thing. What she couldn't bear was ending up paralyzed—alive, but barely.
Raindrops clung to her thick lashes, trembling as she blinked. The icy wetness trailed down her pale cheek.
An arm suddenly slid around her collarbone, locking onto her shoulder. A wave of warm breath brushed against her neck.
"Scared?" a familiar, seductive voice murmured close to her ear.
Megan's eyes darted sideways in shock.
Then soft lips
