97 The Face Off — I

(SKYLAR)

"Come on, Jordan. Tick tock." Max said. The hard metallic barrel of the gun was pressed up against the back of my spine. 

The scorching sun overhead was piercing my skin, tearing it up with its heat. Sweat trickled down my forehead, my back, running down the length of my arm, making the wounds on my wrist sting. 

I felt the cold hard jab of terror in my stomach. 

I feared not for my life but for his. Jordan's. Max's cruel plan was in action. He was going to make it all happen. Step by step. He was going to watch Jordan plead for my life. He was going to make him come down to his knees and then… then he was going to kill him. 

Just when the ray of hope would glisten in Jordan's eyes, just when he would think that he has saved me, saved us… Max would pull the trigger on him. 

The entire way here Max had been reciting his plan to me. Like a madman rambling. And it had caused a knot to tie up in the pit of my stomach.