There was a long list of things that Etheridge had done that Sam was grateful for. Their relationship had begun years ago in the military, their friendship bound from the moment Sam rescued Etheridge from certain death from an inbound enemy unit as he lay crippled at the bottom of a steep drop. As Theo, a man who Sam would cherish for eternity, clambered down the cliff face to rescue Etheridge and later set his broken leg, Sam picked off the incoming attackers with the precision with which he built his legacy.

After that, Etheridge had left the army, built up a multi-million cyber security company, and lived a life of luxury.

But in Sam’s time of need, with the clock ticking on his race to find Jasmine Hill, Etheridge had stepped up.

Broke the law.

Ruined his life.

Sam had always felt guilty for the effects his war on crime had had on those he held dearest. But Etheridge, he’d embraced it, as if witnessing Sam fight back had given him a purpose.

Since then, Etheridge had been as crucial to Sam’s fight as the weapons in his hand.

Now a wanted man, Etheridge had disappeared, but not before providing Sam with a fake ID, building an entire history to keep him off the radar. He’d also put an eye watering amount of money in a bank account, effectively funding Sam’s war.

But of all things Sam was grateful for, Etheridge setting him up with medical insurance upon his trip to the States ranked near the top.

After the assault from the Sykes and the Riders, Sam was helped into a car by the owner of the motel. Ben, who introduced himself formerly as he rushed Sam to the hospital, was a good man. He apologised to Sam for not calling the police once the Riders showed up, but both he and Sam knew that wouldn’t have been any use.

The Riders were the law in Dillon.

Probably the entirety of South Carolina.

As they drove to McLeod Health on Jackson Avenue, Sam looked out over the town. He asked Ben about the Riders, about the grip they had over the town. Having grown up in Dillon himself, Ben was saddened by the reputation it had garnered as the beacon for bikers and criminal activity. Ever since Wyatt had showed up and took control, it was as if the town had evaporated from the map.

What Wyatt said, went.

But beyond the clear criminal dealings of the Riders themselves, crime was at an all-time low. There had been no muggings or robberies in over three years. The last time there was an incident, the Riders stepped in. As Sam pushed Ben for more information, he began to realise that the grip of fear he’d assumed existed was one of begrudging respect.

Wyatt had made the town safer.

Footfall into the local town had increased.