As Mose stood frozen, eyes still on the trail of dust left by the black Ferrari, his fists clenched by his side, a sharp screech echoed in front of him.
A sleek black car halted just inches away, the passenger door flung open before he could even process what was happening.
He turned quickly, instinctively defensive, only to find the last person he expected. Ethan was behind the wheel, his expression unreadable but urgent.
Mose’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I know you don’t trust me,” Ethan said flatly, not wasting time on pleasantries. “But right now isn’t the time for that. We can catch up to them, that's if we leave immediately.” There was a pause, no longer than a breath.
Mose didn’t ask questions, his gut was screaming louder than logic. He got in without
