The neon lights of the motel flickered like a heartbeat, casting a garish glow over the cracked pavement. A low rumble of distant traffic mingled with the sound of laughter from a nearby bar, weaving through the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap perfume. Leaning against the peeling wall, Cash took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up like a whisper in the night. “Still in there?” he called out, his voice laced with a teasing edge. “Patience, Cash! I’ll be out when I’m ready,” came a muffled reply, half-laugh, half-moan. He smirked, flicking ash to the ground. She was good at this—too good. But he knew the stakes were rising. “You know they’re looking for you, right? This isn’t a game.” “Tell me something I don’t know,” she shot back, the door creaking open just enough for a glimpse of her tousled hair and mischievous grin. Behind her, the murmur of a man drifted out, a fleeting shadow of her other life. Cash’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t keep dancing on the edge forever. One slip and—” “I can handle it,” she interrupted, stepping out with a confident sway. “Besides, it’s not like you care.” He pushed off the wall, the cigarette forgotten. “I care more than you think. You’re not just some racer or... whatever this is.” as the smoke dissipating into the night.