“Fuck, fuck!” I yanked up the zipper on my dress so quickly it jammed, and smoothed my hair down, tucking the sides behind my ears. Blood roared through me and my heart pounded. When my gaze went to the floorboard, I saw my discarded underwear. There wasn’t time to put it back on. The cop car had parked and a door thudded shut as the officer got out. I kicked the panties under the seat and pressed my hands into my lap. Luka was all the way on the other side of the back seat, sitting still and calm, even though he was breathing rapidly. He looked emotionless, as if whatever was in the trunk wasn’t a terrifying concern. The cop, a man in his forties, hadn’t reached the BMW when Luka rolled down the window as much as the safety feature would allow. The officer accessed the situation, peering into the back seat with his blinding flashlight. “Evening, folks,” he said, his voice gruff. “Are you having car trouble?” His tone left no doubt he knew what we’d been up to when he’d arrived.
