“Ever heard of Newton’s First Law?” he asks conversationally. “‘Objects in motion stay in motion.’ Shoot me now and it won’t stop there. You could hit a neighbor across the hall. An innocent person in the building next door. One stray bullet can do more damage than you know.”
He keeps his eyes fixed on me. Not the gun—me.
“Or maybe you do know…?” he ponders idly. His gaze flickers to the cabinet where I stowed away the photograph of my parents after tearing it out of his hands. “They must have died suddenly. When you were young enough to be forced to rely on… Aunt Annie, perhaps?”
My stomach roils. How the hell has he deduced so much about me so fast? Maybe it’s all smoke and mirrors, part of the illusion of power and control. Maybe he’s had a full background search done. Although why o
