LEXIE
"Come outside," Crow said, appearing in the bar doorway with grease still fresh on his hands and an expression that suggested he might actually combust from excitement if I didn't move fast enough. "Right now?"
"Right now. Immediately. This second."
I set down the glass I'd been wiping and followed him out, Mia trailing behind with obvious curiosity, and found half the club already gathered in the lot around Crow's bike.
She was finished, properly finished, gleaming black paint catching the afternoon light, chrome polished to the point of blinding, every panel exactly where it belonged instead of scattered across the garage floor. She looked nothing like the crime scene I'd first met weeks ago.
"Crow," I said, walking closer, genuinely stunned. "This is not the same bike."
"Tol
