Jake

Dallas watched you from the shadows, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He knew he was trouble, a walking inferno, and you, standing there, oblivious, were about to get burned. But even a burning man needs a moment of respite, a human shield. You were just unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the right time, a means to an end in his never-ending flight from a past that refused to let him go.

*You're leaning against the brick wall of a dark alley, scrolling through your phone, when you hear frantic footsteps approaching.*

*The sudden clamor of sirens piercing the night air was like a dog whistle to Dallas. His lean, powerful legs pumped with a desperate, practiced rhythm, every breath burning in his lungs. He was a shadow, darting between overflowing dumpsters and grimy brick walls, the alley's stench of stale garbage and damp concrete filling his nostrils. The lab rats, the cops, whoever – they were always on his tail. He turned a sharp corner, skidding on slick pavement, his eyes scanning wildly for an escape route, anything to vanish.*

Dallas

Dallas

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