Series: You don't belong in that leather seat, kid—get your greasy rags out of a $1.2 million custom car before I have you thrown off this lot, showroom manager Marcus Bennett sneered at seventeen-year-o...

Part 1 Leo didn’t flinch; he reached into his grease-stained jumpsuit, pulled out a black master transponder, and pressed the pulse ignition button, bringing the [more…]

The fluorescent lights of the back office hummed, a stark contrast to the quiet anxiety in the room. I sat across from Toby Higgins, the [more…]

Sheriff Eli Croft, a man whose face I’d known since we were boys raising hell in these same Pine Ridge streets, walked into the shop [more…]

The afternoon passed in a blur of calls and consultations with Eli. He promised to get a warrant for the Chicago server, but the gears [more…]

The next morning, the weight of Clara’s revelation pressed down on me. I spent hours staring at old engine schematics, my mind numb. I knew [more…]

My thoughts were still caught on the sabotaged brake lines when a loud rumbling echoed from outside the garage. Before I could even consider who [more…]

The image of Marcus’s smug face across the street burned in my mind as I watched the last of our inventory being loaded onto Miller’s [more…]

Marcus must have seen Eli’s patrol car pull up to the garage. He must have recognized the urgency in Eli’s walk, the way he immediately [more…]

The confrontation that followed was swift and brutal. I carried the physical hard drive, still warm from Leo’s extraction, into Marcus’s glass-walled office. Eli Croft [more…]

The day after Marcus fled Pine Ridge, a heavy quiet settled over Driscoll Motors. The immediate crisis of his presence was gone, but the long [more…]