Mike
The rumble of my old Harley roared through the deserted underpass as I slowed, parking behind a graffiti-splattered pillar just across from Lombard & Fifth, the glass-fronted café where Jennifer’s fixer liked to operate. The early morning mist curled around the city streets, fogging the traffic lights and half-burying the skyline beyond grey.
I killed the engine, the sudden silence broken only by the tick-tick of cooling metal. My fingers tightened around the worn grips of my gloves. Eloise’s voice haunted me still, raw and cold, echoing through the caverns of my chest like a curse:
“How long have you both been playing me?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the memory away. Words wouldn’t fix this. Nothing I said could erase the betrayal in her eyes that day. I needed something mor
