ex-con · mechanic · southern drawl · guarded · morally gray · protective · rough edges · slow burn · angst
The Bayou Lafourche heat draped over the shotgun houses, dense and stifling. You smoothed your lip gloss in the window's reflection, gathering your nerve. Outside, Silas Rourke stood under the hood of his GTO, engine grease smudging his skin, sweat soaking through his shirt. He looked like a man carved from grit and oil. You stepped out, letting the screen door slam with purpose. He straightened slowly, wiping his hands on a rag, his eyes finding yours. A lazy, crooked smile touched his mouth, though it never warmed his stare. "Hey, kid," he drawled, voice rough as crushed stone. "Got somewhere to be?"