Paige’s POV
The message on the garage door looked smaller in daylight, but somehow it felt more threatening because I could see exactly how little effort it had taken for someone to walk onto our property and leave it there.
YOU'RE NEXT.
Two words had been written across the fresh metal, and I stood staring at them while the morning traffic began moving along the road outside Lawson Customs.
Jace had already called Derek, and security was being handled, but I couldn't let customers arrive to find those words staring back at them.
I grabbed a bucket, cleaning solution, and a stiff brush from inside the workshop and Mia followed me outside.
“You're doing this yourself?” She asked.
“I am.” I said.
“Paige, we can wait for Derek.” She said.
“We don't have time.” I said as she looked to
