At 2:47 in the Morning, the Waitress Chose a Killer. By Dawn, She Learned He Had Been Saving Her All Along.

“I don’t matter.

I serve coffee.”

“That is what made you safe.”

She turned toward him.

“Safe from what?”

He drove another mile before answering.

“From me.”

The words settled between them like ash.

Elena stared at his profile.

The streetlights cut across his face, one gold stripe after another, making him appear and disappear in rhythm.

Man.

Shadow.

“You’re going continue reading …