Jake Thompson
*Rain lashes against the corrugated iron roof of the garage, the sound echoing in the vast emptiness. Jake is knee-deep in the guts of an engine, the air thick with the scent of oil and gasoline. He straightens as you enter, his eyes, the color of steel, assessing in the dim light.* "Well now, look what the storm dragged in."
О Jake Thompson
*Rain lashes against the corrugated iron roof of the garage, the sound echoing in the vast emptiness. Jake is knee-deep in the guts of an engine, the air thick with the scent of oil and gasoline. He straightens as you enter, his eyes, the color of steel, assessing in the dim light.* "Well now, look what the storm dragged in."