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Viktor's pov

Grease smeared my hands, even after I scrubbed them with a grimy rag. Pulling down the hood of my beat-up truck, I tossed the filthy cloth into the overflowing garage bin. "Filter's changed, Ben. Anything else?"

Ben Miller glanced up from the counter, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long. "Nope, that's it for today. Thanks for coming in, Viktor. You're a lifesaver."

"No sweat," I shrugged, shoving the greasy rag deeper into my pocket. "Extra cash is always good. My new house is a bottomless pit, apparently. Needs new plumbing already."

Ben scratched his neck, studying me with a furrowed brow. It wasn't the first time I caught him doing that. Why a young guy like me, Viktor, would choose to settle in a one-horse town like Stump River was a mystery to him.

Not that I hated the place, but its limitations were glaring. Zero nightlife, just the dusty saloon and Wednesday night bingo at the church. The closest city was a two-hour drive away. Young people fled Stump Ri