CHAPTER 40 – The Stash House
Dante hit the outskirts of Arroyo Mesa just as the sun dropped behind the mountains, leaving a ragged s***h of orange bleeding across the sky. Stars were already pricking through the bruised dusk like shards of glass. He barely noticed. His focus stayed pinned to the cracked road unfurling ahead—a vein pulsing secrets into the dark. His hands rested loose on the wheel of his matte-black SUV. The engine thrummed low beneath him—a steady, familiar growl that felt more like home than any roof he’d ever slept under. He turned off onto a dirt service road, rolling slow. The stash house loomed out of the dust ahead—a squat block of cinder, rust streaks bleeding down its sides like dried blood. Sun-blasted. Forgotten. The kind of place Jordan used to call a “safe spot.” Dante snorted under h
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