The city was quiet in the way only night could bring, and as I rode my bike along empty streets, the tires hummed over wet asphalt, the headlight slicing through the mist. My hands tightened on the grips, jaw locked as thoughts of Mel tried once again to intrude.
Focus. Always focus. Club first. Always.
The words rolled like a mantra, one I’d repeated to myself so many times it should’ve been iron-clad. But tonight it felt thin, fragile.
I growled low under my breath, doing my best to shove the damn woman out of my head.
The air was heavy, damp from earlier rain. Diesel fumes clung to the streets, sharp and gritty, mixing with the faint tang of something burning not far away. The odor wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something I’d bottle as cologne either. It sat in my throat,
