Chapter 4 - The Handwriting on the Leather
The dim light of the garage caught the stark white paper clipped to the jacket zipper, casting an eerie glow over the dusty concrete floor. Jax remained frozen on his knees, his large hands still clutching the edge of the heavy canvas tarp he had just ripped away. His dark eyes scanned the neat, familiar cursive handwriting on the note, and all the color drained instantly from his weathered face.
“Read it,” Leo urged softly, pulling at the sleeve of Jax’s dark shirt. The boy’s hazel eyes reflected pure curiosity, entirely untainted by the dread gripping the adults. “Who left that there, Uncle Jax? Is it from my daddy?”
Before Jax could find his voice, footsteps crunched heavily on the gravel outside, and Sarah appeared in the doorway, her face pale and streaked with fresh tears. Her eyes locked instantly on the jacket resting against the motorcycle seat, and she let out a sharp, ragged gasp that sounded like a physical blow.
“You found it,” Sarah whispered, her voice hollow as she leaned against the wooden doorframe for support. “I told you both to stay away from this place. Some doors are never meant to be unlocked.”
“Shut up, Sarah,” Jax growled, standing up slowly. He unclipped the paper with trembling fingers. He read the first line aloud, his voice barely audible above the hum of distant highway traffic. ‘They are still watching the house, little brother. Keep the boy safe.’
“Who wrote that?” Jax demanded, spinning around to face her, his grief instantly transforming into fierce, protective rage. “Mark’s handwriting hasn’t changed in twenty years! Don’t tell me he’s dead! Don’t you dare lie to me again!”
Sarah didn't flinch. Instead, she straightened up, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her light cardigan, her expression hardening into a cold, unbreakable resolve. “He isn’t dead, Jax. But if you try to find him, if you follow the trail left in this garage, they will kill him—and they won't hesitate to take Leo, too.”
Leo looked between the two adults, his lower lip quivering slightly. “Mom, why are you fighting? If Daddy is alive, why hasn't he come home to see us?”
Jax knelt back down to the boy’s eye level, ignoring Sarah’s frantic warnings. He gently placed his heavy hand on Leo’s small shoulder. “Your father is a very brave man, Leo. And he left us a map right here.”
Jax reached past the leather jacket and popped open the motorcycle’s locked saddlebag, revealing a thick stack of manila folders and a modern digital flash drive.
May you like
Sarah screamed, lunging forward with a speed that shocked them both, and slammed the saddlebag shut just as a blinding beam of light swept across the open garage door.
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