Her heart plummeted, and her breath stalled.
She prised her gaze from the barrel of the gun and into the crazed triumph radiating from the cold black eyes.
Moyne.
He stepped forward cautiously, leading with the levelled gun, and the stench of stale cigarette smoke wormed into her lungs.
"Nothing to say, huh?" Moyne jeered. "The great Lois Lane - alone, vulnerable, and so scared she can't utter one word."
Aren't you glad I didn't leave you here during the ficathon break??
Thanks!
Corrina.
