William stood there, breath ragged, gesturing wildly with his hands as though trying to fling his anger into the air.
"Do you even realize how far I walked? From that goddamn gas station. On foot. In a puddle of blood, mind you! Soaked to the bone, feet raw, starving to death by the end of it… so yeah—thanks a hell of a lot!"
Leticia stared at him like he wasn't a man at all but some apparition—a holy vision draped in a torn jacket.
"Wait…" She blinked slow, eyes narrowing as if her brain outright refused to catch up. "You mean… you ain't here t'cut off my head?"
"Les!" He rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible. "If I'd wanted to kill you, believe me, I would have done it out on the highway, back when you ditched me."
"So you're… not mad?" she asked, almost naïve in how the question trembled out of her, her accent dripping through the cracks like honey on broken glass.
William tilted his head, eyes locking firmly onto hers.
