“Are you going to hurt me?” My voice is small, divulging my erratic heartbeat. “Depends.” “On what?” “On your ability to follow orders.” “W-what orders?” “Have dinner with me, Lia.” “What?” I mean to snap, but it comes out as a bewildered murmur. Did this killer/stranger/the one who threatened and continues to threaten my life just asked me to have dinner with him?
🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
