The garage felt different after the federal agents left.
The silence they dragged behind them wasn’t peaceful. It hung over the room like a steel cable pulled too tight, threatening to snap under the slightest pressure.
I stepped into the garage, and every quiet conversation died instantly. Boots shifted against the concrete as every eye turned toward me.
Every man standing around the motorcycles wore the same expression. A calm, patient, almost bored, expression but I knew them well enough to recognize what lay beneath it.
They weren’t relaxed.
They were waiting.
No one believed the visit was over. No one believed the Bureau would simply walk away.
I stopped beside the workbench, letting my gaze sweep across the room before speaking.
“They’ve left.”
Not a single reaction.
“But
