I Paid For Her Loyalty

Summary

I told her I was done the moment I slid into the passenger seat of Sloan's Tesla, fresh from the traffic authority office.

"Asher, I'm exhausted. Stop playing games, please?"

I looked at Sloan’s profile—her hands gripping the steering wheel—and a laugh, thin and brittle, escaped me.

"I’m not playing games."

"Sloan," I turned my head, my gaze tracking the blur of neon lights outside the window, "this is where we get off."