⚠️ Dark content ahead: violence, torture, coercion, and psychological abuse.
"Shit!"
"Damn!"
Zimmer cursed each time he bumped into someone.
The amber haze of cheap scotch had been a mistake. It didn't numb the terror, it only sharpened it into a jagged, pulsing rhythm behind Zimmer Hans's eyes. As he stumbled out of the neon-lit pub into the biting January air, the world felt tilted.
He walked with his chin tucked into his collar, his breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches. He kept looking for the black cars, afraid they might find him. He felt like a mouse scurrying across an open field with a hawk circling overhead.
He knew he was a dead man walking the moment he had seen the look in Lucas's eyes at the annex. He was sure Salazar had sent someone to kill him, or do something to him.
He was too scared. He tried to call Nael, but the boy's cell phone was unreachable. Only that boy could save him.
