Chapter 5: The Radio Frequency
The rain began to fall harder, turning the dust in the alley into a slick, dark mud that clung to the boots of the massive biker and the frightened child.
Jax gripped Leo's shoulders a little tighter, his mind racing through a dozen dangerous scenarios.
"Tell me what you heard, Leo. Exactly what did they say?" Jax demanded, his voice urgent but restrained, keeping the panic out of his tone for the boy's sake.
Leo swallowed hard, his big hazel eyes reflecting the pulsing red neon glow of the diner sign above them.
"The man with the snake tattoo... before he came inside," Leo whispered, glancing nervously back toward the kitchen door. "He was talking into a little black box on his shoulder. He said, 'The target's cub is secured, and the old man is taking the bait. Move in on the motel.'"
Jax’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek.
It was a trap. They hadn't just stumbled into him at the diner; they had tracked Leo, using the boy as live bait to draw Jax out of hiding and expose Sarah.
"Damn it," Jax cursed under his breath, closing his eyes for a split second as the full weight of his past sins crashed down upon him.
Ten years ago, Jax had walked away from Sarah and the criminal syndicate they both tried to escape, believing his absence was the only way to keep them safe.
He had traded his family for survival, rotting in prison cells and riding lonely highways, thinking the debt was paid.
Now, the past had caught up with a vengeance, and the collateral damage was the little boy standing shivering in front of him.
"Jax?" Leo asked softly, reaching out to touch the heavy leather of Jax's sleeve. "Are we going to save Mom?"
Jax looked down at the boy, seeing the fierce, unyielding spirit of the woman he had loved more than life itself staring back at him through those hazel eyes.
A slow, grim resolve settled deep into Jax’s bones.
"We are going to get your mom, Leo," Jax vowed, his voice ringing with a terrifying, absolute certainty. "Nobody lays a hand on her."
Jax stood up, shedding his heavy outer vest and draping it over Leo's shivering shoulders.
The oversized leather swallowed the boy, the lingering warmth of Jax's body and the faint scent of motor oil enveloping him like a suit of armor.
"Come on," Jax said, grabbing Leo by the hand. "My bike is parked around the side. We ride hard, and we don't look back."
They broke into a sprint, darting past the dumpsters toward the front street where Jax’s customized matte-black chopper waited beneath the sputtering streetlamp.
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As they rounded the corner of the building, the deafening roar of two heavy-duty engines tore through the rainy night air, blocking their path.
Two masked men on powerful dirt bikes roared into the alley, cutting off their escape and trapping them against the brick wall of the diner.
