"Ma'am, I said I'm going to need you to step out of your vehicle." The police officer repeats the statement with more force this time, all pleasantness gone.

A ball of dread settles in my stomach as I kill the engine. Stepping slowly outside, my hands are raised to show I mean no harm.

"Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" His voice shows no sign of leniency and he rests his hand lightly on the gun strapped to his side.

I eye the gun and stay carefully silent.

What I don't say can't hurt me.

Silence hangs in the air, and though the road is only yards away, no cars pass by. The few streetlights standing in the parking lot don't offer much comfort either. Their dim glow is no match for the darkly painted night. The cloudy sky hides any signs of the stars or moon and the cops angry face is cut into harsh lines by the shadows that fall onto it.

He takes a step closer. I flinch, but my defiant silence continues to stretch.

"Have you been drinking?" I'm so startled by his sudden question, I answer before I can stop myself.

"Are you crazy? No!"

Good job Reagan. I'm sure you've not only managed to convince him that you're intoxicated but also you also belong in a mental institution.

"I'm going to need you to perform a series of sobriety tests." My eyes bulge but I squeeze my lips together. No need to dig myself in any deeper.

Still suspicion of speeding does not equal drunk. Well, at least it doesn't unless I'm acting drunk. Which I'm not. Scanning his crisp uniform I can't find a name tag or badge.

I frown but continue to keep my mouth shut. The cop gestures towards a towering streetlamp which stands several yards away.

"Walk in a straight line. Heel to toe." He straightens and I get the feeling that he wants me to disobey. So I bite back my sarcastic retort and do as he says.

It's no easy feat in my heeled boots and post-adrenaline shaken state. Somehow though, I manage to walk to the lamp and back with only minimal wobbling.

After I'm back in front of the officer, he gives me a skeptical look. "Recite the alphabet."

I hesitate before doing so and get a trip back down memory lane to preschool. Oh, if my teachers could see me now. Getting stopped by cops for speeding and suspicion of DUI.

Gold star.

The cop nods, and I catch a small smirk on his face. "Now recite it backwards."

I blink.

Is he kidding right now! Even sober I can't recite the alphabet backwards.

"I'm sober, sir." My voice is steady and I look him in the eye letting him see that my pupils aren't dilated in the slightest. Hopefully.

The slight shrug he gives is almost lost on his broad shoulders. "Well, unless you perform the tests correctly I'm afraid I can't clear you."

I grit my teeth and stare down at the tips of my boots. The black leather is slightly discolored from the layer of dirt that's settled peacefully on top. I'd gladly be that dirt right now. Insignificant until noticed.

"Now please recite the alphabet backwards." There's more force behind his words this time.

Closing my eyes briefly, I prepare to humiliate myself and probably convince him that I'm drunk.

"Z, Y, X, W, U? Wait, no no! V!" I stumble over the letters as I mentally face palm myself.

The cop is doing a poor job of hiding his wide grin and I want to promptly slap the satisfaction off his face. Though that will just give him reason to arrest me.

I'm sure that's just what he wants.

My suspicions rise as I study his face and uniform more closely.

Is he even a freaking cop?

Eyes widening at this disturbing thought, I pause. Taking in his uniform once again, a badge and name tag still hasn't magically appeared. His large hand continues to rest on his gun and it's the only thing keeping me from doing something rash right now.

"May I see your badge?" I curse under my breath when my voice comes out with a slight tremble.

He looks startled as he cocks his head to the side. Unease crosses his face for a moment, before he slowly reaches into his uniform and presents a shining badge. Flashing it to me, I only get a brief look and can't tell whether it's real.

I shift on my feet, nervous. My eyes dart to the road, which continues to be deserted of any cars. Attempting to back away, my back hits Rick's car.

Halting my retreat.

"Do you have your ID?" I wring out my hands and briefly allow my gaze to land on his weather-beaten face. A look of fury races over his harsh features. He looms over me and I shrink back, my palms pressing flat against the car.

"Listen here, girl. I caught you speeding and you seem drunk so how about you do what I say, before I arrest your sorry ass." My eyes widen at his outburst.

The faint smell of alcohol that comes off his breath makes me gulp.

Crap. I'm not the one who's drunk here.

Heart thumping, I watch as he reaches for his gun and pulls it out. Pointing it at me, I stare down the barrel. The safety clicks off and the sound echoes in my ears. He jerks his head towards his car.

"Get in. We're going for a little ride."

Staying where I am, I try to calm my breathing. A plan begins to form in my mind. A risky one, but I have a feeling that if I get into that car, I won't be around too long to regret any decisions I make.

The cop stares at me as though unbelieving that I haven't moved yet even though he has me at gunpoint. He begins to move closer, almost within range. His hold on the gun tightens ever so slightly.

"Turn around." I follow his order, making sure to hesitate enough so that I don't seem too willing to comply. Leaning against my car, I place my hands flat against the hood. The gun rests lightly on the small of my back. From my peripheral vision, I catch sight of him reaching into his pocket for handcuffs. His eyes are drawn away for one moment. It's all I need.

Turning abruptly, I skirt to the side and the gun is knocked aside by my sudden movement. It goes flying. The metal sliding across the concrete.

He freezes, unable to react. I immediately bring my foot down on his shin then his knee. Collapsing to the ground with a shout of pain, he clutches his leg.

Sprinting to the open car door, I slide in. Hastily I turn the key in the ignition. A gunshot echoes through the night and I scream. Throwing the car in reverse, I see that the man has pulled out another gun. He starts shooting at the car as I floor the gas petal. The tires squeal as they rub against the asphalt.

I speed past the man, who's still lying on the ground, one hand clutched to his kneecap in agony. His free hand holds his gun steady. Gunshots fly past and I keep my head low. Terrified. A shriek is ripped from me as the rear window is blown out. The ping of glass hitting the back seats follow.

When no more gunshots sound, I bring my head up warily. I glance only briefly at the shattered back window before continuing to drive like a maniac.

As the empty landscape rushes past, my heart begins to settle down to a normal beat.

Who the hell was that guy?

And more importantly...What the hell do I do now?

I can't go to the police for help, and I don't have enough gas to make it back home.

Shit.

As I begin to head back into the city, the panic begins to set in.

I have nowhere to stay and I can't sleep in the car.

Sleeping with a broken back window doesn't exactly appeal to me. I pull off to the side of the road, rubbing my temples. The car falls silent as I shut off the engine. I need to conserve the gas.

A sharp pain comes from my ribs as I try to twist my body to look out the window.

I pull up my shirt and wince. Dark purple bruises blossom over the left side of my ribs. A brief memory surfaces as I recall being kicked in the side during the fight at the warehouse. The adrenaline must only now be fading. Before this my body didn't seem injured.

I press my fingers lightly against the discolored skin. Black spots dance before my eyes, blurring out the city lights that glow around me.

Well, that was kind of a stupid thing to do.

I've never bruised my ribs before, but the pain seems bearable for now, as long as I don't touch it. Maybe the bruising isn't too bad.

That thought seems too hopeful even to me.

Clutching the car door, I rest my head gently on the steering wheel. I lick my chapped lips as I try not to jostle my ribs.

I need a place to stay the night and—

Cassidy.

The name darts into my head and I mull it over. I've only spoken to her briefly. She's practically a stranger.

She's also my only option at this point.

Sighing, I make up my mind. I wrack my brain as I try to remember Cassidy's address. The car starts with a low hum as I turn the key in the ignition.

I glance in the rear-view mirror and jolt. My eyes latch onto a well dressed figure standing at the side of the deserted road. Continuing to stare, I gasp when the man looks up and meets my gaze. I don't move, caught in his unyielding stare. With great effort I lower my eyes and turn to my window, searching for the man.

I'm startled when I don't see anyone. The road is empty. No cars and no people.

Did I just hallucinate? Again?

Yet I could have sworn he was there...

He'd looked straight at me. Dressed in a dark business suit that clung to his tall, slender build, he'd seemed so real.

And even from afar, his haunting eyes had chilled me straight to the bone.