Chapter 2 - Shadows of the Past
The gravel crunched beneath the heavy tires of Jack’s pickup truck as it rolled up the overgrown driveway of the old farmhouse. Maeve sat in the passenger seat, gripping her beige jacket tightly. Jack led his crew out of the garage, walking with a heavy, deliberate stride toward the weathered wooden barn at the end of the property. The structure leaned slightly to the left, its crimson paint peeling away in long, weathered ribbons.
Inside the dim barn, shafts of dusty sunlight pierced through the rotting roof slats, illuminating dancing specks of dust. Maeve walked past rusted farm implements and rotting hay bales until she reached a large, shapeless mound in the corner. With a steady pull, she yanked the grey canvas cover off. A vintage blue motorcycle emerged from the shadows, its chrome fenders catching the weak light. Jack let out a low, appreciative whistle, stepping closer to inspect the immaculate engine casing.
"Your dad did all this?" Jack whispered, running a calloused thumb along the polished tank.
"Every single bolt," Maeve replied softly. "He spent ten years collecting the original parts."
Vance whistled, running his hands through his grey hair. "This is a 1974 Triumph Bonneville Custom. Only three hundred of these frames were ever minted in the states."
Bo stared at the machine, his tough demeanor completely gone. He reached out to touch the handlebars, then suddenly jerked his hand back as if he had been burned. "Jack, look at the VIN plate stamped on the neck."
Jack leaned down, squinting in the dim light. He brushed away a thin film of dried oil and rust. The color drained completely from Jack's weathered face, his bearded jaw going slack. He stood up slowly, staring at Maeve with an expression that shifted from awe to absolute, chilling terror.
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"Maeve," Jack said, his voice dropping to a trembling, frantic whisper. "Where did your father get the title for this bike?"
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