The Valkyrie's engine roared inside the showroom and rattled the glass doors in their frames.Vittorio held the throttle one second longer than he needed to. His hands had found the wheel before his head remembered the car, and the narrow seat pressed against his bruised ribs. Eight years ago, he had driven this same car through a mountain pass at night with the headlights off.Robert hauled open the loading door behind the private room, and gray daylight rolled in with the smell of the harbor.Robert leaned in at the driver's window and raised his voice over the engine. "Your bike stays on Harbor Avenue for now, sir. I'll send one of the boys to ride it home to Mercer Street before lunch. If anyone asks, I'll tell them a client left it as a deposit."The bike was a secondhand frame with a dented fender, the first thing Vittorio had ever bought with his own pay. Teresa had held the receipt the way other mothers held a diploma."Thank you, Robert. Tell him the front brake squeaks, so h