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

Elena looking at it, and covered it with a towel.

“I have never shot anyone,” she said.

“I hope you never have to.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It was not meant to be.”

He stepped closer with the first-aid kit.

“You’re bleeding.”

Elena touched her cheek.

Her fingers came away red.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing gets infected too.”

He dabbed antiseptic onto a cut near continue reading …