Chapter 1 - The Threshold of Trust
"Can we help you?" Jax asked, his voice cutting through the ambient hum of air compressors and heavy metal music inside the dusty garage.
"You're about to run me out, aren't you?" Maeve snapped, her red curls catching the neon glow of the shop sign as she planted her boots firmly on the oil-stained concrete.
"Just looking at you tells me you don't belong in a place like this."
Jax didn't flinch, crossing his arms over his black leather vest.
"Kid, wandering into a patch like ours without an appointment is a good way to get lost."
"I am not lost," Maeve retorted, her jaw tightening as she stepped closer, refusing to let the towering bikers intimidate her.
"My dad passed away recently, and he left something unfinished in our barn that needs people who actually know what they're doing."
A murmur rippled through the group of bearded men leaning against classic frames.
Jax raised a weathered hand, silencing them instantly.
"Details."
"My dad wrote everything down in this," Maeve said, pulling a worn leather-bound notebook from her light beige jacket and shoving it against his chest.
"I just wish he could've finished it."
Jax stared down at the cracked leather, his hardened expression shifting just enough to show a flicker of recognition.
"Take us to the barn," he ordered quietly.
They followed her across the gravel lot to the weathered wooden structure standing at the edge of the property.
Maeve ripped off the heavy canvas cover, exposing the skeletal frame of a vintage blue motorcycle sitting dead in the center of the room.
Jax flipped open the notebook, his thumb tracing the ink-stained blueprints and meticulous sketches detailing a custom engine block unlike anything he had seen in decades.
He froze, his eyes widening in the dim light.
"Wait a minute," Jax whispered, his breathing hitching as he stared at a specific serial number sketched on the final page.
"I know this handwriting."
Maeve frowned, stepping forward.
"What are you talking about?"
"This isn't just any custom build, kid," Jax said slowly, turning his head to lock eyes with her.
May you like
"Your old man didn't just build this bike... he stole the engine blueprint from me twenty years ago."
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