“You were funny back there.” There was a smirk in his voice, almost flirtatious. “Like you don’t care what happens to you.” I shrugged, trying to bridle the uneven canter of my heart. “It’s all so—” Before I could finish my sentence, there was a knife at my throat. A sharp bolt of adrenaline; a hollow pit in my stomach. The blade was warm from where it had been tucked into his pocket.
