Cain shot ahead on his motorcycle, the roar of the engine tearing through the night. The red tail-light ripped into the darkness, leaving a fleeting crimson scar across the air.
Leticia kept her hands steady on the steering wheel, guiding the car. Beside her sat William, his face stiff with unease. His eyes kept cutting toward her, searching for answers, but every thought he chased dissolved before he could catch it.
"What're you planning to do with him?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound firm, though he was trembling inside. "Kill him? Strip evidence off the corpse? You realize murderin' a cop is like painting a bull's-eye on your chest in the middle of huntin' season. They'll turn this whole city upside down until they find the killer. That's suicide."
Leticia's gaze didn't move from the road. Her eyes reflected the passing glow of the headlights.
