"You think I didn't see that?"
"I'm not resisting."
"[ __ ]."
Norman pulled the trigger.
Fifty thousand volts slammed into Taylor's body.
And for the first time, the man's control shattered.
His back arched.
Muscles seizing.
A sound like a wounded animal tearing from his throat.
Norman held the trigger down for five seconds.
Then seven.
Then 10.
Watching the way Taylor's fingers clawed at the gravel.
When he finally released it, Taylor collapsed flat.
His breathing harsh and uneven.
Norman didn't wait.
He grabbed the left arm, limp now, unresisting, and slapped the second cuff on, cranking them tight enough to bite into skin.
"Not so scary now," Norman gasped, his hands shaking as he patted Taylor down.
No weapons.
No drugs.
Just a body built like a weapon itself, now restrained and helpless on the side of the highway.
Taylor's eyes were closed.
His jaw clenched.
When he spoke, his voice was barely audible.
"You have no idea what you've done."
Norman hauled him to his feet, shoving him toward the cruiser.
"Yeah? Well, you're about to find out what happens to people who threaten cops in my county."
He didn't see the way Taylor's lips moved in what might have been a prayer.
Didn't notice the resignation in the set of his shoulders.
Didn't understand that the man wasn't praying for himself.
He was praying for Norman.
Norman shoved Taylor into the back of the cruiser with more force than necessary, the cuffed man's shoulder slamming against the far door.
Taylor didn't cry out.
Didn't curse.
Just shifted himself upright with the awkward grace of someone whose hands were bound behind him.
His face was scraped from the gravel.
A thin line of blood trailing from his temple.
But his expression remained that same infuriating mask of control.
Norman slammed the door hard enough to rock the vehicle.
Then stood there for a moment.
Hands on his knees.
Trying to catch his breath.
His uniform was soaked with sweat.
His knuckles aching from where he'd struck Taylor's ribs.
The adrenaline was starting to ebb, leaving behind a jittery exhaustion and something else.
A whisper of doubt he crushed immediately under a wave of vindication.
He'd done it.
He'd actually done it.
Taken down a suspect who could have killed him.
Someone who was clearly dangerous.
Clearly hiding something.
The G-Wagon sat on the shoulder with its shattered window glittering under his cruiser's lights.
Looking less like a luxury vehicle now and more like evidence.