The figure reached the alley entrance, stepping inside slowly. The gun was raised, sweeping left to right in a careful arc, the barrel catching faint glints from the distant streetlight.
But Liam wasn't where the figure had expected.
He'd moved—quietly, carefully—the moment the footsteps had stopped at the entrance.
While the figure's attention was locked forward, scanning the shadows near the back of the alley, Liam had slipped around the opposite side of the dumpster. His back pressed flat against the cold brick wall, his breathing shallow and controlled.
Now he was behind him.
The figure took another step forward, their boots scraping softly against the grime-slicked pavement.
He moved with the gun leading, both hands gripped tight on the weapon, their body tense and ready.
Liam's heart hammered in his chest. His muscles coiled.
'One shot. That's all I get.'
He didn't think. He just moved.
