DEVIN BOWEN.
The moment I step into the Bikers’ booth, the atmosphere shifts and it's enough for a few heads to turn and enough for me to know people noticed I was back.
The heavy scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me instantly while old rock music blasts faintly from the speakers near the bar.
Same dirty wooden floors. Same stained walls. The same rough crowd scattered across tables. Nothing has changed and somehow, that irritates me more.
I close the door behind me slowly while melted snow drips from my boots. A few bikers nod at me carefully.
One guy near the pool table says aloud “Look who finally remembered this place exists.”
I ignore him and let my gaze move around the booth instead.
“Devin.” The deep voice echoes from behind me and I turn slowly.
Maddox stands near th
