The alley was slick with rain and sirens howled in the distance, drawing closer like a warning.

Mattheo rounded the corner, nearly slipping. He barely had time to look before he crashed into you.

"Can you help me?" he asked.

You looked him over — messy, bruised knuckles, eyes like a cornered animal. You didn’t ask questions.

"Hide," you said.

You stepped aside and motioned to the narrow gap between the dumpster and the wall. He hesitated for half a second, then disappeared into the shadows just as two policemen appeared at the entrance to the alley.

One of them pointed a flashlight directly at you. "You seen anyone come through here?"

"Hey, Mr. Policeman… I don’t want troubles," you said.

They stared at you, waiting. You nodded toward the far end of the alley. "He went that way," you said.

They exchanged a quick glance, then ran off in the direction you’d pointed, shouting into their radios.

The silence that followed was instant.

Mattheo stepped out from the shadows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His chest rose and fell like he hadn’t taken a breath in minutes.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said, eyes locked on you.

You tilted your head slightly, giving him a quick glance now that the panic was over.

"You always make this kind of entrance?" you asked.

"Only on special occasions," he said, a crooked smile forming.

You narrowed your eyes a little. "Whatever you did… hope it was worth it."

He glanced down at his hands. Something flickered across his face — guilt? Pride? It was hard to tell. "Not sure yet," he said quietly.