Selene’s cheek stung, the corner of her lip bleeding where his knuckle had broken skin. A muscle in her jaw flexed as she kept her face turned and her eyes downward. She did not move as Jason made for the door, did not lift her head until the front door slammed closed.
Without much thought, Selene turned off the light, closed the door to the gun room. Silently, her body carried her to the kitchen, where two empty mugs sat on the counter. Pale hands pushed against the cool granite as she tongued the blood from her lip, and in a flurry of fury and hurt, Selene grabbed one of the mugs and threw it across the room. The ceramic shattered against the farthest wall, burst into tiny fragments, just like the pieces of her already unsteady composure. Selene crouched on the floor and wiped a trembling hand over her face.
Bourne had silently stormed from the apartment and down the flight of stairs. He had slowly lost control with each step; David Webb was gone, taking his humanity with him and leaving only the killer, Jason Bourne, behind.
The streets were hardly crowded but they weren’t completely desolate and most of the people still retained enough intelligence to steer clear of the man. Unfortunately, some didn’t.