Chapter 6 - Whispers of the Past
The morning sun broke through the tall pines, casting long rays of light through the cracked cabin windows. Jax had not slept a single second. He sat at the wooden table, staring at the old faded photograph Leo had brought him. In the photo, a younger, unscarred version of Jax held a tiny bundle in his arms, smiling with a pure joy he had completely forgotten he was capable of feeling.
Leo stirred on the sofa, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. Jax quickly tucked the photo away and offered the boy a small piece of dried fruit and water from his supplies.
"We need to plan our next move," Jax murmured, more to himself than to the child. "Vance wants the ledger I took three years ago. It has enough evidence to put his entire ring behind bars forever. He thinks I still have it."
"Do you?" Leo asked, taking a small bite of the fruit.
Jax sighed, running a hand over his tired face and dark beard. "No. I burned it years ago to protect your mother. But Vance doesn't know that. He thinks I'm holding it as leverage."
"Then why don't we tell him?" Leo asked innocently.
"Because men like Vance don't listen to the truth, kid," Jax replied softly. "They only understand power and fear. If he knows I have nothing to bargain with, he has no reason to keep any of us alive."
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Suddenly, the quiet rumble of an approaching engine echoed from the dirt path leading to the cabin. Jax snapped into action, drawing his pistol and pushing Leo behind the heavy wooden kitchen counter. "Stay down and don't make a sound," he whispered sternly.
Jax crouched near the front door, peering through the small crack in the wooden curtain. A single vintage pickup truck pulled up to the cabin, and an elderly man with a long gray beard stepped out, raising his hands in the air.
