Selina reached behind her, her fingers fumbling for the plastic container of spray. But he was too fast—an expert reading his cornered victim's movement. He lunged, snatching her wrist and yanking it upward.
Selina squeezed the trigger, but he tilted his head, the mist dissipating harmlessly into the air. He twisted her wrist roughly, a cruel smirk appearing as the container clattered to the floor.
"Ahh…" Selina whimpered, the sharp, throbbing pain in her joint making her vision swim.
Her widened eyes dropped on her red wrist.
He didn't stop there. He wrenched her bag from her shoulder, dumping its contents. He found the second bottle—the sedative she had hoped to use—and poured it out onto the thirsty concrete.
"No one is coming to save you," he whispered.
"Why are you doing this? Who sent you?" Selina asked, her voice shaking as she backed away, her eyes searching for a weapon. She spotted a heavy wooden plank leaning against a pillar a few yards away.
