BANG!
Then — another shot.
Olivia flinched, eyes squeezed shut, bracing for pain — which never came.
When she opened her eyes, the gun was inches from her head, angled towards her ear. Her heart thundered in her chest, breath catching.
The blonde woman had fired beside her face — a warning.
"Do it, or I will kill you in front of all of your friends," she whispered, breath hot with fury. She raised the gun, aiming it at Olivia's forehead, making her squeeze her eyes shut again.
"You think I'm bluffing?" the blonde said, and moved near her, "Try me," she whispered in her ear.
Jake's mind raced. His eyes flicked to the gun, to Olivia, then back to the blonde. Ambrose's weapon. He knew that model. Eight rounds, semi-auto. She fired once at the thin man. Once in the air. Twice near Olivia.
Four shots left.
"She only has four bullets left," Jake muttered, half to himself, half to anyone who'd listen. "Ambrose's model only carries eight — no extended clip."
