Chapter 7: The Midnight Escape
The desert night descended over Salt Creek like a heavy velvet shroud, plunging the tiny Nevada town into a freezing stillness that contrasted sharply with the roaring engines of the biker rally. Inside the dimly lit garage behind the diner, the air smelled of stale gasoline, motor oil, and rust. Jax worked with frantic, practiced efficiency, strapping a heavy canvas duffel bag to the rear fender of his custom chopper while Leo sat quietly on a wooden crate nearby, tightly clutching his mother's folded letter and the vintage photograph.
Martha stood by the open side door of the garage, keeping watch against the cool night wind. She held out a brown paper bag stuffed with sandwiches and a canteen of clean water, handing it directly to the boy.
"Make sure he eats every bite, Leo," Martha instructed gently, her voice softening as she looked at the young boy. "Your father is too stubborn to remember to feed himself, let alone a growing kid."
Leo accepted the bag with a small, grateful nod. "Thank you, Miss Martha."
Jax stepped away from the motorcycle, wiping a smear of black grease off his forehead with the back of his heavily tattooed forearm. He walked over to Martha, his hardened expression giving way to a rare, genuine vulnerability. For five years, she had been the closest thing to a friend he had in this God-forsaken town, offering hot coffee and silence when he needed it most.
"Thanks for watching our backs tonight, Martha," Jax said, his voice low and gravelly. "If Cutter and the boys come asking..."
"I didn't see a damn thing," Martha interrupted firmly, placing a reassuring hand on Jax’s leather-clad shoulder. "You just get this boy up into those mountains and figure out how to be the father he deserves. Leave the club behind, Jax. They were never your real family anyway."
Jax nodded once, a silent acknowledgment of the profound truth in her words. He turned back to his son, his heart swelling with an unfamiliar, terrifying emotion. He reached out and gently placed a spare, oversized riding jacket over Leo’s narrow shoulders, zipping it all the way up to his chin to keep out the biting mountain wind. Then, he lifted a heavy, spare helmet and carefully placed it over the boy's messy light brown hair, buckling the strap securely under his small chin.
"You ready for this, partner?" Jax asked, offering a reassuring, lopsided smile.
Leo adjusted the oversized helmet on his head, his big hazel eyes shining brightly in the dim light of a single overhead bulb. He gripped the edges of his father's leather vest with both hands.
"I'm ready, Dad," Leo replied softly.
May you like
It was the first time he had ever used that word aloud. The simple syllable hit Jax like a physical blow, grounding him completely. He hoisted his son up, settling him securely onto the leather seat right in front of him where he could keep his arms wrapped around him at all times. With a final nod to Martha, Jax kicked the starter pedal. The V-twin engine roared to life, shattering the midnight silence as they tore out into the darkness.
***
