The city lights flickered like dying embers in the distance as Zack navigated through the winding streets, the hum of the engine the only sound between him and Nia. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, watching the black SUV trailing them a little too closely for comfort. At first, he told himself it was nothing—paranoia from years of always looking over his shoulder.
But when a second SUV slid into view a few cars back, his gut tightened. Two vehicles. Both identical. Both too calculated.
Zack's fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw locking. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled—a sensation he'd learned never to ignore.
Nia, seated beside him, noticed the shift in his demeanor. "Zack? What's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with worry.
He didn't answer immediately, his sharp gaze darting between the road ahead and the mirrors. His body language screamed alertness, every muscle coiled like a spring.
