PREVIEW
... behind the wheel.
The Mustang slid down the stretch of road toward the distant silhouette of Ebon Crest Tower, reflections skating along the hood as the city rolled past. He leaned back into the seat, one hand loose on the wheel.
The track jacket he wore—black with red stripes and SHU stamped bold across the chest—hung unzipped halfway, chain catching the occasional gleam of the light as it shifted against his shirt.
A ping lit the dash. Don’s eyes flicked to the screen. ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE





























