"The Lord be with you." "And with your spirit," the low rumbled saying came from the pews before the priest, their response out of habit, not love. I rapped my knuckles on the hardwood of the seat in front of me, making the dark-haired girl sprawled across a song book stir in drowsiness.

I needed to leave.

Hurriedly, I stumbled into the aisle, my toe bashing against a kneeler placed in the down position and stifled a cry. Heads turned as I muttered an apology, my sweating palms clenched as I led my feet the backdoor. Was it some coincidence, or did the holy water retract from my fingers as I dipped them into the gold bowl beside the exit?

A woman with a wrinkled red dress and a desolate look on her face soothing a sobbing infant seemed to glare at me as I fled from the church grounds, the silent gaze almost shouting, "You leave because you want to, yet I have no choice!" Did I have a choice? Hard to say, especially when the clean shaven man dressed in corduroy on the other side of the aisle kept flicking me looks that were admittedly unnerving.

What I needed was a drink. Badly, not like a stressed teenager dumped by a girlfriend or a divorced father on a Friday night. I was an elk by a stream, my legs clawed and shredded by wolves and rough terrain, and all I could focus was the clear, trickling liquid before my hooves, glassy and inviting.

I peered behind me as my red Camry skirted out of the parking lot, breath now ragged and demanding as my eyes darted between the road and the man now tailgating me. Was it him?

Crying out in anger at the curvy road before me, I gesticulated my hands at the sluggish vehicles in front trudging at a low forty miles an hour. "C'mon, come on!" I cussed, hands beginning to shake. I was so close to the freeway, only a few side streets away. Once I drove to the on ramp-

The crinkle of metal met my ears and my head was flung toward the steering wheel, my temple splintering with pain as I shrieked. Quickly, I parked the car and tussled with the seatbelt, the scorching flood of adrenaline rapidly masking my anguish. I ripped the door open and wobbled across the street like a drunk. Robust, forceful arms enfolded on my body as I was shoved to the ground, red beads of blood blasting from my cheeks by the loose gravel and lacerations from the impact.

Through bloodstained teeth and slivered eyes I spoke, my words ringing clearly through the scene. "I knew you were a cop."