The warehouse looked different now.
Cleaner. Organized.
This was the Hawks' old base. The place Liam and Shay's crew had taken after the fight with Iggy. After everything went down.
Concrete floors swept clean. Most of the broken crates cleared out and stacked against the far wall. A few folding chairs scattered around. Some tables pushed together near the center. Basic setup. Functional.
Afternoon light filtered through the high windows. Dust particles floating in the beams. The air smelled like concrete and old wood.
Shay stood near the center of the room. Arms crossed. His shadow stretching long across the floor. Looking down at something on one of the tables.
Damien was beside him. Hands shoved deep in his pockets. The stitches on his face from the fight with Iggy's crew were still visible. Black thread against skin that was healing but not quite healed yet. A line running from his left eyebrow down to his cheekbone.
They were both staring at the same thing.
