Chapter 9
The pre-dawn darkness hung heavily over Fourth Street as Jax parked the motorcycle half a block away from the dilapidated Oakridge apartment building. A steady, freezing drizzle fell, slicking the pavement and casting eerie reflections from the flickering streetlights. The building itself looked abandoned, its windows dark and boarded up in places, a sad monument to urban decay.
"Is this the place?" Jax whispered, keeping his hand on Leo’s shoulder as they crouched beside a rusted chain-link fence.
"Yes," Leo nodded, pointing toward a side alley. "The window to our old room is down that way, behind the giant green dumpster."
Jax checked the alley to ensure it was clear of vagrants or police patrols. "Stay right here behind this pillar, Leo. Don't move an inch until I come back for you. I'm going to check the window and grab the box."
"I can help," Leo whispered eagerly. "I know how the window latch sticks. You have to lift it up while you push."
Jax hesitated, looking down at the boy. He wanted to shield Leo from every harsh reality of their past, but he knew the boy was right—local knowledge was invaluable here. "All right. Stick close to me, and if you hear anything, we run back to the bike. Got it?"
They moved swiftly and silently through the wet alley, hugging the shadows of the brick wall until they reached the rear window Leo had described. True to his word, the window was wedged open slightly, the wooden frame rotting around the edges. Jax used the flat blade of a pocketknife to silently pop the rusted latch, sliding the glass upward with minimal noise.
"In you go," Jax whispered, lifting the boy carefully and easing him through the narrow opening into the pitch-black room.
Jax followed closely behind, squeezing his large frame through the tight space with a soft thud onto the worn linoleum floor. The room smelled of damp dust and old memories. Moonlight filtered through the dirty glass, illuminating the empty space where a bed and a dresser used to stand before the landlord cleared them out.
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"Over here," Leo whispered, walking toward a corner of the room near the baseboard. He dropped to his knees and began scraping away a loose piece of peeling linoleum. Beneath it was a small square hatch cut into the wooden floorboards.
Jax knelt beside him, pulling out his small penlight to illuminate the dark cavity beneath the floor. Inside sat a heavy, fireproof metal lockbox, coated in a fine layer of dust.
