Saint:
The morning sun fought its way through the gaps in my blinds, casting pale streaks across my bedroom floor. I blinked away the remnants of sleep, rubbing a hand over my tired face before forcing myself out of bed. Every muscle protested, each step toward the shower reminding me how long this week had been. But I had a job to do, answers to chase.
After a quick, steaming shower, I dressed methodically—jeans, black T-shirt, worn leather jacket, my boots scuffed from countless rides. Grabbing my keys and slipping on my shades, I strode out to my bike, my thoughts already swirling with what might unfold.
The engine growled beneath me, a comforting rumble as I sped through town. The crisp air rushed past, clearing my head, sharpening my focus. Junker's garage was downtown, tucked away
