She wore her makeup like patina on a fine bronze sculpture. She may have been a little worn out, but Nick could appreciate the original art. He held up a hand, ordering his men to halt. "Let her go," Nick said.
They released her, and she rubbed her wrists and sneered at him. It wasn't quite the appreciation he'd hoped for, but he couldn't say he blamed her. He'd come into her home with his band of thugs and killed her drug-dealing sugar daddy. Now she must be wondering what he planned to do with her.
Originally Nick had planned to send her the way of her deadbeat boytoy. Now he wasn't so sure...
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