POV ESMERAY
Reno was a fever dream of neon and desperation. After the vast, silent emptiness of the Nevada desert, the city felt like a physical assault on my senses. The hum of a thousand slot machines and the artificial scent of expensive perfume and cheap gin replaced the smell of sagebrush and gasoline. We weren't here to play, though. We were here to hunt a man who had built his empire on the blood of my silence.
"You look... different," Ruan murmured, his voice a low vibration that made the hair on my neck stand up.
I looked at my reflection in the tinted window of the black SUV we had swapped the bikes for. Gone were the blood-stained scrubs and the oversized hoodie. Thanks to Marta and some quick connections Ruan had in the city, I was now wearing a dress that cost more
