The air in the basement was cold and stale, with only the faint light of a dim bulb casting shadows along the concrete walls. George stood a few feet from the makeshift cell where they had locked up Hawk. The leader of the motorcycle gang sat slouched against the wall, his wrists bound, a smirk twisting his dirty face as he stared up at George.
Hawk's lip curled into a sneer as he spat onto the floor. "You think this is over? My boys are coming back. And when they do, we'll skin you all alive. You and your pretty little ladies. This whole place is ours, it's just a matter of time."
George didn't flinch. He had heard Hawk's threats before. They were always the same, filled with bravado and venom. George's resolve was solid as he kept his gaze level, showing no sign of fear.
