She was tied to a chair, gun at her temple. Her bright green eyes wide with terror, and her dark auburn hair messy and wild from a struggle.
“One more step, and the girl dies!” Marco shouted, and moved the gun so the muzzle was touching her. She wimmpered.
“Stop this Marco! Let her go!” I shouted. I gripped my gun tightly. I wouldn’t let her die. Not let this. I had to fix this. After all, it’s my fault.
“I don’t think so. Now drop the gun,” Marco sneered. I narrowed my eyes. If only I’d covered my trail better. Then he never would’ve found me, and she’d never been taken.
“NOW!” Marco shouted, and hit her with his gun. She wimmpered again and began to cry.
I took a deep breath. I slowly bent down, as if to put my gun down. But once at the ground, with the flick of my wrist, I shot Marco between the eyes. He hit the ground like a bag of bricks.
I ran over to her, and remove the ropes that binded her. But while I did, I could see terror in her eyes. Terror of me. The man she loved.