5
Once again, Kingdom caught himself thinking of the chick in the tat shop. Sage. He blew out a weary breath over his fingers clenched around the scruff of his jaw. The roller shutter door of the garage attached to his warehouse was raised, allowing a spring breeze to drift through the space. Kingdom wrangled with a tight bolt on the Harley he was restoring. It was a side gig for him, but he’d told his client he’d be done by the end of the week, which meant many extra hours.
He had the flexibility to take time off from helping the brothers run illicit goods, mostly cigarettes. The vice taxes imposed on certain states had created a huge industry worth billions of dollars, especially in New York, although they were cashing in from Connecticut and Rhode Island as well. Although the Providen
