Her scream tore open the cold evening air. “Please, don’t do this—”
Rough, merciless hands dragged her across the chalk diagram. Even with last night’s rain continuing in a light drizzle, Faith tasted copper and ozone in the air as her feet dragged over the still-wet pools of blood.
“Mr. Lucas, please,” she begged. She struggled against her captors—men she’d known her entire life, now reduced to faceless executioners. Even with her heavy weight thrown against their grip, they continued pulling her inexorably forward. “Please, you know me, you know I would never—I wouldn’t even know how, please—”
Mr. Lucas backhanded her cheek.