Chapter 7 - The Badge and the Bike
The cruiser’s door swung open, and Sheriff Vance stepped out—no relation to Clara, Jax knew, but a man who wore his corrupt authority like a cheap tailored suit. Sheriff Vance adjusted his wide-brimmed hat, resting his right hand casually on the grip of his sidearm as he sauntered toward Jax and Miller with a slow, deliberate stride.
“Well, look at the convention we got here,” Sheriff Vance drawled, spitting a wad of tobacco juice onto the gravel. “A bunch of out-of-town patch-wearers congregating outside a family diner during an active town ordinance. You boys know about the loitering laws in this county, don't you?”
Jax didn't flinch. He kept his hands loose and low, ready for a fight if it came to it, but acutely aware that Leo was sitting just inside the glass doors watching every move they made.
“We ain't loitering, Sheriff,” Jax said smoothly, keeping his voice dangerously even. “We’re just having a cup of coffee and catching up on old times.”
“Old times,” the sheriff repeated, laughing dryly as he stopped a few feet away. His eyes flicked from Jax to Miller, then lingered on the heavy patches stitched onto their vests. “Right. Well, 'old times' tend to stir up a lot of dust around here, Jax. And lately, that dust has been causing problems up by the county clinic.”
Jax’s blood ran cold. He forced his face to remain completely expressionless. “What kind of problems?”
“Oh, you know. Lost children wandering into town unsupervised,” the sheriff said, his eyes narrowing sharply. “A little boy by the name of Leo. Claims he’s looking for a long-lost daddy. Social services have been looking all over the highway for him since this morning. And wouldn't you know it, he matches the exact description of the kid sitting inside Sarah’s diner right now.”
Miller stepped half an inch forward, his boots crunching on the gravel. “Sounds to me like the boy’s looking for his family, Sheriff. Ain't no crime in that unless you plan on making one up.”
Sheriff Vance’s smile vanished instantly. He stepped right up to Miller, the two older men locking eyes in a silent contest of wills. “Watch your mouth, old man. I can haul both of you in under suspicion of contributing to the delinquency of a minor faster than you can kick-start those old Harleys.”
Before the sheriff could reach for his radio, the diner door creaked open behind them. Little Leo stepped out onto the threshold, clutching the small folded paper in his hand, his hazel eyes fixed directly on the sheriff’s badge.
“You’re the man who came to Mom’s trailer last week,” Leo said, his clear, young voice carrying easily across the silent parking lot.
Sheriff Vance froze. The color drained slightly from his weathered face, though he quickly masked it with a forced, tight smile as he turned around to face the boy.
“Now, son, you must be confused,” the sheriff said smoothly, taking a step toward the doorway. “I’m just the local law. I protect this town.”
“No,” Leo insisted, shaking his head. “You had that same silver star on your shirt. And you told Mom that if she didn't sign the papers by Friday, she wouldn't see another dime for her medicine.”
The parking lot went dead silent. Even the distant roar of the biker rally seemed to fade into the background.
Jax looked at the sheriff, seeing the absolute panic flashing behind the man’s eyes. Without thinking, Jax stepped between the sheriff and the doorway, blocking the lawman’s path with his massive body.
May you like
“Looks like you got some explaining to do, Sheriff,” Jax whispered, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. “Or we can take this conversation down to the highway where everyone can hear it.”
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