The Weight of Cold Iron and the Unforgiving Friction of a Concrete Horizon
CHAPTER 1: THE FRICTION OF THE TRAY “You got nothing left, old man, nobody here fears you.” The words smelled of stale tobacco and raw adrenaline. They vibrated across the narrow, grease-filmed space of the bolted metal table, carrying the distinct, heavy heat of a challenge meant for an audience. Cobb didn’t look up immediately….