She was finding it hard to think clearly. I don’t know why. I wasn’t paying much attention. I was watching the door.She was convinced that whoever...it was would have a gun. She ran little plays inside my skull with different mini-Becs playing the different people – Mum, me, Tara, the gunman. It was annoying. I wanted to be perfectly ready to jump on the intruder. She kept on distracting me with all this pointless thinking.Then I noticed that the thinking did have a point. In every little play. One that had just tried to kill him.She was breathtakingly beautiful he saw, now that she wasn’t trying to disembowel him. Long, curling lashes lay against the gentle curve of her cheeks. Her face was slightly round, like a girl barely out of her teens, with a cute nose and full, black lips.Hunter or prey, he reminded himself as he raised the stick to drive it into her chest. He was alive only because he had gotten lucky. Those claws looked wicked sharp, easily capable of scooping his guts out. More

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