JJ
Two weeks later, Havoc and Razor were still gone.
The dark SUV had disappeared into a camera gap on the far side of the industrial district, and every lead after that had turned into nothing. No confirmed plate. No clean image of whoever had been waiting in the front seat. No new sighting of Havoc or Razor anywhere the Daggers could verify.
Nobody believed that meant they were finished. It just meant we had stopped letting them freeze the rest of our lives.
That was how I ended up standing in my future tattoo shop on a Tuesday afternoon with paint in my hair, dust on my jeans, and Nixx staring at the pry bar in my hand like I had picked up a live grenade.
“Put it down.”
I looked at him. “No.”
“That shelving is bolted into the wall.”
“I know. That’s why I have the pry bar.”
Benn
