Chapter 8 - The Road North
Sheriff Vance’s hand hovered dangerously close to his holster, his fingers twitching against the black leather. For three agonizing seconds, nobody breathed. The tension in the dusty parking lot was thick enough to cut with a rusted bowie knife. Then, slowly, the sheriff let his hand drop away from his weapon, offering a cold, tight-lipped smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
“You think you’re being a hero, Jax,” the sheriff muttered, stepping back and adjusting his hat. “You think walking back into Clara’s life after eighteen years makes you a saint. But you’re just a fading ghost chasing a dead end. That boy doesn't belong to you. And that property down by the river? It belongs to the county now. One way or another.”
Without waiting for a reply, Sheriff Vance turned on his heel, climbed back into his cruiser, and slammed the door. The tires squealed as he threw the car into reverse, spinning around in a cloud of dust before rocketing down the highway toward town.
Jax let out a long, ragged breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He turned around to find Miller and Sarah standing by the diner door, with Leo peering up from between them.
“That cop is dirty as a coal miner’s lung,” Miller said, spitting onto the gravel. “If he’s working with the Syndicate to take Clara’s land, that clinic won't be safe for another hour.”
“We’re leaving right now,” Jax said decisively, kneeling down so he was eye-level with the boy. “Leo. You heard him. We gotta get to your mom before anyone else does. Are you ready for a long motorcycle ride?”
Leo looked down at Jax’s old scuffed jacket, then up at the massive Harley-Davidson parked against the curb, its chrome pipes gleaming under the afternoon sun. A tiny, hopeful spark lit up his big hazel eyes. He nodded slowly.
“I ain't scared of the bike,” Leo whispered.
Sarah rushed back inside for a second, emerging with a canvas duffel bag packed with sandwiches, bottles of water, and a heavy woolen blanket. She shoved it into Miller’s arms, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“You bring that boy back safe, Jax,” Sarah ordered, her voice trembling slightly. “And you tell Clara… you tell her I’m coming to visit as soon as you get settled.”
Within minutes, the engines roared to life. Jax strapped an extra leather jacket around Leo’s small frame, zipping it up to his chin so he wouldn't catch the bitter mountain wind. He lifted the boy up, settling him securely onto the passenger seat right behind him, wrapping Leo’s small arms tightly around his own waist and securing them with a heavy belt.
“Hold on tight, kid,” Jax shouted over the deafening exhaust. “Don't let go, no matter how fast we go.”
Miller kicked his own bike into gear, taking the lead as they pulled out onto the asphalt ribbon heading north toward the mountain pass. The sun was beginning to dip below the jagged peaks, casting long, bruised shadows across the empty highway.
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For the first twenty miles, the ride was smooth, the steady hum of the twin-cylinder engines drowning out their worries. But as they climbed higher into the dense pine forests of the Oakhaven ridge, Jax noticed something flashing in his side mirror—a pair of unmarked headlights tailing them closely through the gathering dusk.
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