Crick... click.
"Ma'am, you do not have the right to touch her."
I looked up through blurred vision.
Guns. Everywhere. At least ten of them, all pointed at Patricia.
Guards filled the hallway. Men in black. Faces like stone. Weapons steady.
"We'll kill you right now!"
Fuck.
So fast.
No. They shouldn't kill anyone.
I opened my mouth to speak—to stop them, to say something, anything—
But Patricia laughed.
Not a scared laugh. Not a nervous one.
Insane.
"Do you want to kill me?" She spread her arms wide, blood still wet on her hands. "Blow off my head, you motherfucker!"
The guards didn't move. Didn't flinch.
"Blow it!" Patricia screamed. "I've been in your boss's life for years! Do it! Kill me!"
Her voice echoed off the walls.
"It's better to die than to see someone else take him!" Her eyes found me. Burned into me. "Someone unworthy."
"Kill me!"
Patricia screamed, her head pressing against the barrel of a gun.
