All seems well for a moment. Then, she notices the goon holding the gun has shifted his aim to Mirza. His finger’s on the trigger, a hair away from pulling it. She turns to Mirza. He’s distracted.
She releases a bone-shattering scream and duck for cover.
Crack! The bullet misses Mirza’s head, but it grazes his shoulder and hits the windshield.
“ s**t! s**t! s**t! s**t! “
As she passes the Elite gate, Mirza winces in pain. A thin line of blood drips through his shirt. “ I thought I told you to lay low “
She shushes him, stripping off a bit of cloth from her hem and wrapping it around his shoulder.
“ Look at your dress. It’s ruined “
“ It’s not the dress I’m worried about “
She looks into the mirror. The Suburban is far behind. Mirza was right. They’re not crossing the gate. She rele
