Adam, meet everyone. Everyone, meet Adam.
Adam rubbed his eyes in the bright sunlight. He squinted at the beast and its chrome armor. The salesman just stood off to the side, arms crossed over his sizable chest. Adam guessed that this guy was used to letting the bikes sell themselves. When you come to a Harley Davidson dealership, you probably weren’t window shopping.
“Yeah, she’s the one.” Adam shoved his hands in his front pockets and walked the salesman inside. If he’d never gone to Detroit, maybe he wouldn’t be spending half of his life’s savings on a way to get the hell out of town. Maybe he wouldn’t be running for his life… for his sanity. Maybe he’d be able to think about something other than a girl who’d kissed him and a witch on the roof of a Detroit parking garage.
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6,823 / 110,000
(6.2%) |
