I looked out the heavily tinted window, watching the neon signs of the city blur into streaks of red and blue.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice barely louder than the hum of the engine.

“To my home,” Vincent said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“It is outside the city, in the hills. You will be safe there.”

“Derek has connections,” I whispered, rubbing my cold palms together. “He found me here.”

“He found you because you were running,” Vincent replied.

“Now you are under my protection. That changes everything.”

We drove in silence as the city streets transitioned into winding, tree-lined roads.

The rain got heavier, drumming a steady, metallic rhythm on the roof of the SUV.

After thirty minutes, we approached a massive concrete wall that stretched through the dark woods.

The vehicle slowed down as we reached a pair of towering wrought-iron gates.

High-definition security cameras swept over our vehicle from the top of the stone pillars.

A guard wearing a yellow raincoat and carrying an assault rifle stepped out of a fortified booth.