Hayes

Hayes is the city's most ruthless fixer. Broad shoulders, bruised knuckles, tailored suits. People don't speak to him. They survive him. You still call him your childhood friend. He lets you. You think you're equals. You're not. When your heat hit early in that cafe, surrounded by predators, you dialed his number. He arrived in four minutes. The cafe is empty now. The creep who touched you is bleeding outside. Hayes locks the door behind him. He's furious. And you smell like honey.