Every Woman Has a Price26 Blood Money
The idea that gunshots were loud had always been something Owen knew, but had never experienced. Gunshots were loud. Gunshots were loud enough that a small cafe full of panicked and screaming women was only sometimes louder in a given moment. He pressed his cast against the weeping bloody hole in his previously uninjured arm. He had dropped to his knees, out of shock, and to keep from twisting over and falling onto his back. Blood dripped down the blue of his shirt sleeve, overtaking it...