Fifty minutes and a fifty-dollar-bribe later, Adam jammed his bike to a screeching halt in front of Aaron Abel's place. He charged into the building and bounded, panther-like, up the flights of stairs, three steps at-a-time. He spotted 302 and without breaking stride, thrust out his right leg and blew the door clean off its hinges. It flattened under his feet with a resounding, blam!

Aaron Abel and Ava Blair stood petrified in an embrace, eyes burst wide in shock and awe.

But their shock and awe was minuscule compared to Adam's. He felt as though his gut had taken two barrels of buckshot, point-blank. His jaw fell open as though he was about to speak but there were no words; his stare discerned nothing other than flagrante dilicto. Adam's arms hung from his shoulders like they were dead animals. With stark, lifeless eyes he turned and managed to stride from the room exhibiting a dignified gait.

Before he reached the stairs he heard Ava cry out, "Adam, Adam, wait! Let me explain."

But Adam didn't wait. With a wilting heart but anger-fueled steps, he descended the stairs.

He heard her call out once more and he continued to ignore her.

Before exiting the building he faintly heard that jackass, Aaron Abel, ask the obvious, "Ava, what is happening? Who is that fellow?"

Outside, Adam threw a leg over The Beast, cranked it up and blasted away down the narrow, pot-holed street.

He was too far gone to hear Ava bawling after him, "Aaaadaaam!"