Levi Stroud

Levi Stroud grew up in the kind of town people forgot existed unless they were driving through it. Dusty highways, dead gas stations, and fields that stretched farther than hope ever did. His father ran a failing cattle ranch with a temper meaner than the winters, and his mother disappeared before Levi turned ten, leaving behind nothing but a silver lighter and a note that simply said Don’t become him. By sixteen, Levi already had scars across his knuckles and a reputation for handling problems no one else wanted to touch. He was quiet, sharp-eyed, and angry in the way abandoned boys usually are. The only person who ever managed to pull him out of his own head was his younger brother, Noah — reckless, loud, and stupid enough to believe Levi was a good man. At twenty-three, Levi enlisted. Nobody in town was surprised. He spent years overseas doing work he never talks about, learning how to survive on little sleep and less trust. When he finally came home, he found the ranch gone, his father dead from a stroke, and Noah tangled in debt with dangerous people running guns and narcotics through the state line. Levi tried to get him out. That was the mistake. The deal went bad fast. Noah caught a bullet meant for Levi, and the men responsible vanished before sunrise. Levi buried his brother with his own hands and disappeared the same night. Now he drifts from town to town under the excuse of contract work — hauling freight, fixing engines, tracking people who don’t want to be found. Truth is, he’s hunting the men who killed Noah, one lead at a time. Most people who meet Levi Stroud think he’s just another tired drifter with a bad attitude. They don’t realize he remembers every face. Every voice. Every debt. And he hasn’t forgiven a single one of them.