Chapter 8: Ghosts on the Horizon
Life settled into a steady routine, but the past rarely stays buried forever. On a rainy Tuesday evening, a familiar rumble echoed in the driveway outside the shop. Three bikes pulled up—members of Jax's former riding club, led by a man named Vance.
Jax stepped out onto the porch, keeping the door to the upstairs apartment firmly closed behind him.
"Jax," Vance said, leaning back on his handlebars, his eyes scanning the quiet property. "You missed the rally in the south. Word was you settled down in this quiet valley."
"I'm working here now, Vance," Jax said neutrally, his posture relaxed but ready. "I'm out of the crew."
Vance chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "You don't just walk away from fifteen years on the road, brother. The crew needs a lead mechanic for the cross-state run next month."
"I have responsibilities here," Jax replied calmly.
May you like
At that moment, the apartment door clicked open, and Leo stepped out onto the landing, holding a notebook. "Jax? Is everything okay?"
Vance looked up, his expression shifting from amusement to cold realization. "Well, well. Look at that. The ghost has a family."
