by Scott, Kylie
“Wrong!” Faster than I’d thought possible, Chris grabbed the younger boy. “What the fuck you playing at? You think I’m stupid?”
“No, no. Wha—”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Chris snarled, his fingers tightening around the gun. “She’s the only real hostage I’ve got. You think the cops would give a shit if I killed your drugged-up ass right now?”
“I won’t panic,” I said, not stopping to think. “I promise.”
Face lined, gaze angry and a little confused, Chris turned my way.
“We just have to wait for Joanna,” I continued, my breath coming fast. “Thank you . . . thanks for the beer.”
Slowly, Chris eased back, the fury falling from his face. “That’s right. We just have to wait for Joanna.”
I didn’t risk looking directly at John, to thank him for trying to help, to see if he was all right. Eyes down and mouth shut, that was safest.
“Won’t be long now,” Chris mumbled as if to himself. “It’ll all be over.”
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