Could you take the car out of neutral? We just got passed by a street sweeper.
An innocent girl, a harmless drive. What could possibly go wrong?
Don’t switch the blade on the guy in shades, oh no.
I wept quiet tears. And then out of the darkness, slow and with great bravado came sweet music. A gravelly voice. A drunken slur, underlined with blatant sexual innuendo. “I’m a cop, you’re a crook,” he spat. “Nothin’ worse than a bad cop.” He hissed it, tickling the inside of my ear. Nolte, hair wild. Nolte, in handcuffs. Smoking a cigar. Handling the truth. Issued a restraining order. Accompanied by Eddie Murphy? Nolte in my special place.
Alone no longer, I am free. I am his.
Corey is dead.
But Nolte, so very much alive.