Chapter 1 - The Shadow Over the Counter
The neon light outside the diner hummed with a low, agonizing flicker.
Inside, the heavy odor of grease, tobacco, and old leather filled the air.
Jax looked down at the tiny, weathered hand resting on the Formica counter.
The boy’s eyes were too large for his hollow, pale face.
Jax felt his own heart hammer violently against his ribs.
His calloused fingers trembled as they touched the edge of the faded photograph.
In the picture, a younger Jax smiled alongside a newborn child.
Beside him in the photo stood a man whose face had been deliberately scratched out with a key.
Jax quickly slapped his hand over the image, concealing it entirely.
"Jax... what is that photograph?" Martha the waitress asked, leaning over the counter.
Her voice was sharp, laced with decades of neighborhood suspicion.
"It's nothing, Martha," Jax growled, his jaw clenching hard.
"It doesn't look like nothing," Martha whispered, her eyes narrowing as she wiped the counter with a dirty rag.
The boy did not flinch from Jax’s glare.
Instead, the boy slowly reached into his worn denim jacket.
He pulled out a small piece of paper, folded into a tight square.
The edges of the paper were stained with dark brown spots that looked unnaturally like dried blood.
"Mom said Uncle left before I was born," the boy whispered softly.
Jax stopped breathing.
The entire diner seemed to freeze in time.
In the back corner booth, a man in a crisp white button-down shirt stood up.
His dark eyes were fixed entirely on the boy and Jax.
He did not look like a biker.
He looked like a man who knew how to erase a life without leaving a trace.
Jax recognized those cold, calculated eyes immediately.
"You shouldn't be here, kid," Jax said through gritted teeth.
"She told me to give you this before he caught us," the boy said.
May you like
The boy pushed the folded paper toward Jax.
On the outer fold, a crude ink drawing of a snail was visible.
