Chapter 128 Never Go Home Again

The Lincoln Continental's tires screeched to a stop as Mason pulled up to St. Catherine's. His knuckles went white on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the weathered brick facade like a hitman studying his mark. This joint should've felt like relief, even clarity, driving toward a place tied to his childhood. Instead, his gut twisted with the kind of warning that had kept him breathing through Chicago's bloodiest turf wars. The dashboard lit up with his phone's buzz, cutting through his dark thoughts.