Avery Jane slowly got out of the car, one hand covering the back of her neck, where Evelyn Yates had burned her with a cigarette butt in the morning. It hurt deeply now, and she could feel a small wound there, the blood seemed to have dried a bit, but it was still unbearably painful. She furrowed her brows lightly, watching Evelyn being escorted forward by the driver in front of her.
They stopped about ten meters from Joshua Hughes's convoy. The man accompanying them paused, then pulled out a handgun from his waistband and threw it to the ground, clasping his hands over his head.
Even from several cars away, Joshua Hughes could clearly see Avery Jane walking. She wasn't hurt; the sea breeze made the hem of her white shirt flutter, her long black hair danced as if caught in the wind.
No matter how many guns were aimed invisibly at him, he couldn't restrain himself; he wanted to embrace her.
