Chapter 2
The heavy oak front door clicked shut as the last of the terrified party guests fled into the cool evening air, leaving only Jax, Sarah, and young Leo trapped inside the silent, brightly lit living room. The smell of sweet vanilla frosting mingled with the bitter scent of ozone and tension. Sarah scrambled backward until her spine hit the drywall, her mascara running in dark streaks down her pale cheeks. She pointed a shaking finger at Leo, her voice dripping with venom. "He’s trespassing! That kid shouldn't even be in this house! Get him out of here, Jax!"
Jax ignored her entirely. He walked past the ruined birthday cake, stepping carefully over the pool of frosting, and knelt down until his scarred face was level with the eight-year-old boy. Despite the intimidation of his tattoos and towering frame, Jax’s dark eyes softened as he looked into Leo’s big hazel eyes. He reached out a heavily inked, calloused hand, his fingers gently brushing against the frayed sleeve of Leo’s old jacket.
"Show me the rest of it," Jax said quietly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator in the open-plan kitchen.
Leo nodded slowly. With trembling fingers, he tapped the screen of the smartphone, bringing the surveillance footage back to the beginning. The video showed Sarah standing at the kitchen island three hours earlier, carefully drawing a clear, odorless liquid from a small glass vial into a plastic syringe, then injecting it directly into the center of the chocolate batter before baking it. The timestamp in the corner of the frame was indisputable.
Jax watched the screen in absolute stillness. Every muscle in his body tightened, the tattoos on his forearms stretching as his fists clenched into hard knots. He had survived twenty years in the rough underbelly of the city by trusting his gut, but tonight, his gut had nearly killed him. He looked back up at Leo, remembering the boy’s desperate warning right before he knocked the cake from Jax’s hands.
"Why were you watching our house, kid?" Jax asked, his tone curious rather than threatening.
May you like
Leo swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the old faded photograph he still held in his other hand. He handed the photo to the biker. Jax took it gently, his thumb brushing over the worn edges of the glossy paper. It was a picture of himself from nine years ago, holding an infant wrapped in a blue blanket, smiling with a genuine warmth that Jax hadn't felt in a very long time.
"Because my mom told me before she passed away that you were the only person in the world who would ever look out for me," Leo whispered, a fresh tear escaping his eye and tracking down his pale cheek. "And I saw this woman arguing with you yesterday about money. I knew she was planning something bad."
