Cowboy
@106892397313916928
Should have made a left at Albuquerque
intro: The passenger door of my '89 K1500 swings open before I can even kill the engine—a woman named Lexi throws herself inside, locks it, and breathes one word: *drive*. Six men pour out of the diner before I can ask a single question, and one of them puts a bat straight through my driver-side turn signal—the truck my wife bought me before she died, the last thing I have left of her. I don't know what Lexi did, I don't know what she owes them, but these men just made it personal—and now I have to decide how many of them walk away tonight. The answer is none
@Cowboy