Chapter 9
The morning sun crept over the jagged ridge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, spilling golden light across the gravel parking lot of the Mountain View Motel. Inside Room 4, the air was cool and still. Jax woke up instantly, his military conditioning kicking in without a groggy transition. He rubbed his weary eyes, feeling the stiffness in his broad shoulders from spending the entire night upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair. He looked over at the bed. The quilt was rumpled and empty.
Jax’s heart skipped a beat, a sudden jolt of pure panic shooting through his chest. He stood up abruptly, scanning the small room. “Leo?” he called out, his voice sharp and urgent.
The bathroom door creaked open an inch. Leo poked his messy light brown head out, holding a wet toothbrush in one hand. He looked bewildered by the sudden tension in Jax’s posture. “I’m right here, Jax. Just brushing my teeth like you said.”
Jax exhaled a long, shaky breath, letting the coiled tension drain out of his muscles. He ran a hand through his own dark hair, offering a sheepish, self-deprecating grin. “Right. Good job, kiddo. Just making sure you hadn't vanished into thin air.”
Ten minutes later, they were packed and back inside the truck. Jax drove them down the winding mountain road toward a small town nestled in the valley below called Oakhaven. It was a picturesque community with white-picket fences, a central town square, and a sprawling hardware store that boasted a hand-painted sign in the window: Mechanic Wanted – Inquire Within. Jax’s eyes locked onto that sign the moment they rolled past the town square. It was as if the universe was offering him a direct lifeline, a chance to trade the open highway for a workbench and a paycheck.
He pulled the truck into a gravel spot beside the hardware store, cutting the engine. He turned to Leo, who was quietly examining a comic book he had found on the motel nightstand. “Stay right here, Leo. Don't unlock the doors for anyone. I’ll be right back inside that shop.”
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Leo looked up, giving a solemn nod. “I’ll be right here, Jax. Go get the job.”
Jax stepped out of the truck, rolling his shoulders back to square them. He walked across the sunlit sidewalk and pushed open the heavy wooden door of the repair shop attached to the hardware store. The interior smelled of fresh lumber, heavy machine oil, and sweet pipe tobacco. An older man with silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses looked up from a ledger on the counter, sizing Jax up with sharp, experienced eyes that missed nothing.
