Chapter 5
The screech of burning rubber tore through the quiet morning air of Oakridge, snapping Jax’s attention away from his motorcycle ignition. Barely fifty yards down Main Street, a sleek black sedan burst around the corner, its tires smoking as it drifted sideways across the double yellow lines. The vehicle didn't just slow down; it aggressively corrected its trajectory, barreling straight toward the school's front entrance with malicious intent.
Jax reacted purely on survival instinct. He threw his body sideways, shielding Leo completely within the protective cage of his massive arms and thick leather vest, diving behind a large concrete planter box just as the sedan slammed to a violent halt. Gravel and asphalt dust sprayed across the pavement, pinging loudly against the side of Jax’s parked motorcycle.
Leo buried his face deep into the crook of Jax’s neck, letting out a muffled, terrified sob that shook his entire body. “They found us, Jax! They found us!”
“Keep your head down and don't look up, no matter what you hear,” Jax whispered fiercely against the boy's messy hair, his own heart hammering against his ribs like a caged animal. His right hand slowly slid down to his ankle, where a heavy hunting knife remained sheathed inside his boot. It was a desperate weapon for a desperate man, but it was all he had left.
The front passenger door of the black sedan clicked open with a metallic pop that cut sharply through the idling engine's low rumble. A pair of polished leather dress shoes stepped out onto the dusty asphalt, followed by crisp dark slacks and a tailored charcoal overcoat that looked entirely out of place in this working-class town. The man standing up was tall, sharp-featured, and possessed cold, calculating eyes that scanned the schoolyard like a sniper assessing a kill zone.
It was Victor. The man Jax had spent the last eight years running from, leaving a trail of broken identities, dead-end jobs, and interstate highways in his wake.
Victor adjusted his cuffs deliberately, a cruel, mocking smile stretching across his thin lips as he locked eyes with the concrete planter box. “Come on out, old friend,” Victor called out, his smooth, unhurried voice carrying easily over the wind. “You really thought you could vanish into the suburbs and play house with a dead man’s kid? We both know debts like yours don't just expire with a handshake.”
Jax slowly rose to a crouch, still keeping Leo pressed securely behind his broad back. He kept his left hand firmly over the boy's ears so he wouldn't have to hear the venom in Victor’s voice. The biker’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he stared down his old tormentor, knowing full well that walking away from this confrontation was no longer an option.
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“Leave the boy out of this, Victor,” Jax growled, his voice steady despite the adrenaline spiking through his veins. “He has nothing to do with what happened back in Chicago.”
“Everything you touch becomes my business, Jax,” Victor replied smoothly, taking a slow, measured step forward while casually reaching inside his coat. “Especially when you walked out of the warehouse with the ledger. Now, are you going to hand the kid over quietly, or do I have to drag you both back through the dirt?”
