Phoenix:
The place smelled like fresh paint and motor oil.
Perfect. The perfect mix for today.
I was on my knees, wiping down the polished concrete floors, making sure not a single footprint was left. The launch was hours away. Everything had to be flawless.
The chrome finishes gleamed. The neon sign bearing The Phoenix flickered to life overhead, its glow bouncing off the fresh windows Ryder had installed himself. Airbrush samples lined the east wall. Limited edition tees and tanks were folded perfectly at the front. There was a vibe here. Something electric. Bold. Ours.
I wiped my brow with the back of my wrist and pushed up to my feet, breath catching for a second when I turned toward the door.
Two shadows stood just inside the wide garage entrance.
My dad and Uncle Blaze.
Blaz
