There’s a moment, just before we step out of the bar, where I wonder if we’ve finally crossed a line we can’t come back from. Not because of anything. But because this time, we didn’t hesitate. Levi walks ahead, shoulders squared, hands in his pockets, and Owen follows at a leisurely pace like we didn’t just agree to murder a man for favors. I exhale, flexing my fingers. No second thoughts. No looking back. We made the deal. Now we see it through. Outside, the cold night air presses against my skin, heavy with the smell of damp pavement and pine. The streets are quiet, the town barely awake, and for a second, it almost feels like the world is holding its breath. Waiting. Levi doesn’t stop walking. “Where’s Briggs?” Owen pulls a cigarette from his pocket, tucking it between his lips. “Got a place just outside town. Runs his shit out of an old motel—Red Pines Lodge. Seedy little joint, but it works for him.” Levi doesn’t react, but I catch the way his fingers twitch
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