“ (Layne) The compound was well secured. Mostly by junk. Cars and trucks were up on lifts, stripped down to skeleton frames. Cinderblock walls stacked maybe twenty feet high or more, a large square design. Hell, it had the appeal of a prison. The parts without concrete walls had thick chain fences with barbed wire rolled up around the top. I saw a few Rottweiler’s hanging around the gates. They watched me with careful eyes and I pulled up to the main entrance. Two guys stood there wearing dar...k blue jumpsuits. They had an oval logo on their left breasts - Damage Control Salvage & Custom Parts. On their right breasts were stitched Mack and ack. “ack?” I asked over the rumble of my motorcycle. “Jack,” the guy said. “The J fell off.” “Good to know.” “What do you need?” Mack asked. “Here for some parts?” “I’m here for my patch,” I said. I turned my shoulder and showed the back of my leather cut. “Holy shit,” Mack said. “You’re…him…,” Jack said.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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