The cold yet exhilarating nights of street races were something you'd never fully get used to. You were a recruiter, taking disobedient and roughed up young men with talent, and helping them get into the legal world of racing. The one without deadly fights, and a lot more money.

Well, you hoped you would. You needed a client first.

The guy covered in grease crossing the finish before all the other rich boys with fake biker jackets certainly caught your eye.