Chapter 3: The Broken Glass Reckoning**
Jax didn’t wait for Mack to finish his smirk. Violence in this life was never about fairness; it was about momentum. Jax lunged forward, grabbing a heavy glass ketchup bottle from the counter and smashing it straight across Mack’s jaw. The glass shattered, crimson sauce and real blood spraying across the checkered tile.
The second biker pulled a switchblade, the stainless steel blade catching the fluorescent light. He lunged toward Jax’s gut, but Jax caught the man’s wrist, twisting it violently until the bone popped with a sickening snap. The blade clattered uselessly onto the floor.
Jax drove a heavy knee into the man’s solar plexus, dropping him instantly, gasping for air.
Mack scrambled to his feet, spitting a mouthful of blood and broken teeth, charging like a wounded bull. Jax stood his ground, slipping the wild right hook and hammering three short, merciless blows into Mack’s exposed ribs. Mack crashed against an empty booth, splintering the vinyl seats, wheezing in agony.
Jax reached down, grabbed Mack by his leather collar, and dragged his face close. "You tell Cole that my debts in this town are paid in full. If another cut pulls up behind me, I won't leave you breathing to carry the message."
He shoved Mack toward the shattered entrance. The two battered enforcers scrambled out into the gravel parking lot, their bikes roaring to life in a hurried, panicked retreat.
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Clara emerged from the kitchen, her shotgun held low across her chest. Toby peeked out from behind her apron, his hazel eyes wide, taking in the devastation. He wasn't crying. That broke Jax’s heart more than tears ever could; the boy had already seen too much violence in his eight short years.
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