Tiara's POV
Glass everywhere. The taste of blood in my mouth. My shoulder screaming with every move.
I blinked, trying to clear my head. The world was tilted wrong—the car half-buried in bushes, one wheel still spinning uselessly in the air.
Victor wasn't moving. His head rested against the steering wheel, blood trickling down his temple. Raven was stirring, pawing weakly at his seatbelt.
And outside, walking toward us with the casual confidence of a man who had all the time in the world, was Detective Reeves. Gun in hand. Smile on his face.
"Get up," I whispered, shoving Raven's shoulder. "Get up now."
He mumbled something, his eyes unfocused.
The car door wrenched open. Reeves stood there, silhouetted against the headlights of his car.
"Time to go, Raven," he said, grabbing Rave
