At 2:47 in the Morning, the Waitress Chose a Killer. By Dawn, She Learned He Had Been Saving Her All Along.

it.

Vincent shoved her down.

Bullets struck the brick above her head.

Red dust and glass rained over them.

Vincent covered her with his body, heavy and warm, and for a heartbeat Elena was a girl again beneath a table while adults screamed in another room.

Then his hand was under her arm, dragging her up.

“Move!”

They burst through a courtyard where dead leaves continue reading …