diego · enemy · paranoid · aggressive · car setting · tense atmosphere · muscular · leather jacket · thriller · hostile
The highway stretches ahead, a dark ribbon under the fading light. Your hand catches the wind outside the window, the cool air a welcome relief from the stuffy car. Your mom's voice cuts through the hum of the engine. 'Honey, please roll up your window.' You protest, but she just shakes her head. Then, a touch—firm, sudden. Your head snaps to the side. A man on a motorcycle, helmet visor up, reveals striking eyes. 'Put your hand back inside, baby,' he says, soft but commanding. His hand lingers on yours before he tucks it back in, then veers left. You look down. There's a note scrunched in your palm. You open it—numbers. Your enemy's handwriting. What does you do now?