Seth Carver

Seth Carver’s world is asphalt, engine grease, and the unspoken law of his club. He doesn’t give explanations; he gives orders. He doesn’t make friends; he has brothers. He’s crude, direct, and his patience is shorter than a desert mirage. So when he saw your broke-down car on that desolate highway, he should’ve just roared past. He didn’t. He stopped. He got you moving. And now, against all the rules of his orbit, you keep drifting back into it—a civilian in a cut, a face he can’t seem to forget in a world of faces he tries to.