Preface
"Hiya there," had been the first words he'd spoken to anyone all night.
"Hiya back," she'd replied.
They had talked all night, finding out things about one another. He was from Boston; she from San Antonio; yet both seemed to end up in Denver somehow.
They'd met at a party a friend's brother had thrown one night after the races and immediately had hit it off. There was just something so totally magnetic about him. She didn't know what it was then, and now she couldn't believe that it even had.
Here they were, two years later, him holding her hostage for no other reason than to torture her. She didn't know how long she'd been wherever it was she was, but she knew she couldn't take too much more.
"So, tell me, Lise…is this what you imagined your last days to be like? Here, in an abandoned warehouse, broken arm, battered and bruised face, broken ribs, trying to draw those last breaths? Is this what you imagined it to be?"
He got in her face, inches from her nose. He grabbed her chin in his hand and kissed her on the lips, hard.
"Is it everything you wanted it to be?" he snickered.
"Go to hell, asshole," she retorted.
"You know what? I'm sick of your bullshit. Your act of 'oh I'm so special, someone's gonna come save me'. Guess what, princess. Ain't no one here to save your sorry ass. You know why? Cause no one gives a damn."
No sooner had he said that then gunshots could be heard throughout the warehouse.
She raised her head high enough so that she could see his men dropping like flies.
Expecting him to run for cover, she was thoroughly surprised when she noticed he hadn't. The gunfire stopped as the last body fell and she knew that it was over for him.
It wasn't until she felt cold metal to her temple that she thought differently.
"Guess what, sweetness? Your time's up. Say goodnight," he whispered evilly into her ear.
She shut her eyes, knowing there was no use fighting it.
He pulled the trigger and everything went black.