Seven Crumpled Dollar Bills on a Pine Table in Michigan

said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Mike stood by the window, his chest tight as he looked out at the cold Cadillac streets.

He had promised Sarah that the club’s presence alone would keep Donald at bay, but the paper in Shark’s hand felt like a physical wall.

“He is using the system,” Mike said, his rumbling voice unusually quiet.continue reading …