The Enforcer Took My Ring Back

I was twenty-two when I walked out of my own birthday party, barefoot, holding the ring I'd worn for eighteen months. Six years later Gideon walks into my tattoo shop with a lockbox and no excuses. He hands me names. He hands me a sobriety chip I gave him in 2019. He hands me everything I left behind, including the truth about what I lost in the spring of that same year. He doesn't ask me to take him back. He asks me what I need and then shuts up. I'm going to make him prove it. He's going to prove it. And when he does, the Wolves aren't invited.