"I know, Dom. I said I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just be careful." I run my hand through my hair, trying to calm down. "We're supposed to be hiding, remember? That means no trace of us and no witnesses."
"I’m sorry, I just…" she says defeated, looking down at her camera, her fingers tracing the lens. "When I'm there, in those spaces, I forget everything else. It's like the work is the only thing that matters."
"I get it. But you matter more than the work. You understand that?"
She looks up at me, her eyes dark and serious. "Yeah."
"If you get caught, if someone identifies you, this whole thing falls apart. The portfolio, the gallery submissions, the new life…all of it."
"I know."
"So we have to be smarter. I scout first. And if I say it's not safe, we don't go. No arguments."
"Okay."
The anger is draining out of me now, replaced by understanding. I reach over and cup her face, my thumb brushing her cheekbone. "I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to protect you."
"And I need that. I need you to pull me back when I go too far."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Because when I'm in it, I can't see anything else. I need you to be the one who sees the danger."
I lean across the console and kiss her. Slow and tender.
"We're a unit," I say against her lips. "You and me. We do this together."
"Together."
"I watch your back. You trust me to pull you out when it's time."
"I do trust you."
I kiss her again, deeper this time, my hand sliding to her throat. She responds immediately, her body leaning into mine despite the awkward angle. It doesn’t last too long before I break the kiss.
"Tomorrow we try again," she says.
"Yeah. But we do it right and you listen."
"Okay, I promise."
I kiss the top of her head, finally feeling back to normal. "Good."
The next scene is an overdose victim discovered in an industrial area. I scout the location first, alone, making sure it's safe, but there are two other people here. They look like photographers, but not professionals, my guess is they probably do this shit for social media likes. And people would say I’m the sick fuck. I need to get rid of them, so I approach them.
"You need to leave."
"Excuse me?"
"This is a crime scene. You're contaminating evidence. Leave."
"We're not doing anything wrong, it’s a public space."
"I said leave, or do you wanna become a problem for me?” I say, my voice deep and cold as I step closer, letting them see the monster in my eyes. The understanding that I'm not someone to argue with.
They both look at each other, coming to an understanding as they walk off. Not many moments later, Roxy arrives, and I'm still fired up. All of this human interaction is grating on my nerves.
