Outside, the cool night air hit him like a bucket of ice water. He dashed to his motorcycle, breathless and trembling. It had become more than just a means of transportation; it was his lifeline. He hopped on, revving the engine as he glanced back to see the thug emerging into the glow of the streetlights, gun still in hand.
"Go! Go! Go!" he shouted to himself as he tore away from the curb.
As he sped away, Morgan muttered under his breath "shit, shit, shit" he opened his car got him and followed the rest rushed out of ethan apartment and onto dark SUVs trailing behind him. The hairs on the back of Ethan neck chilled, as gunshots rang out, bullets whizzing past him. "They're really trying to kill me"
Ethan leaned low over his motorcycle, dodging traffic as he swerved through the streets. Each bullet that whistled past him was a reminder that he wasn't just fleeing from danger; he was running for his life. The thrill of speed was mixed with the terror of the unknown.
"Stop the bike! Pull over!" echoed through the chaos as police in another vehicle joined the chase, sirens wailing in the distance. The loudspeaker crackled with urgent commands, but Ethan's instincts screamed for him to keep going. He couldn't stop, not now. Panic fueled him, turning him into a blur of motion as he navigated the night
But the thugs were relentless. They fired at his tires, sending erratic jolts through the motorcycle.
Ethan could barely think, each time a bullet nearly hit him or grazed him, stoking the flames of terror that burned deep in his gut.