Chapter 2 - The Snail’s Trail
Jax stared at the tiny drawing of the snail on the folded paper.
Cold sweat broke out across the back of his neck.
The snail was not just a scribble.
It was the signature of a underground debt ring he thought he had escaped ten years ago.
"Who told you to come here, kid?" Jax demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
"My mom," the boy replied, his voice quivering slightly.
"Where is she right now?" Jax asked.
The boy glanced nervously toward the front windows of the diner.
Outside, rain began to pelt against the glass in heavy, erratic sheets.
The man in the white button-down shirt began walking slowly toward the counter.
His shoes made no sound on the worn linoleum floor.
"She's in the car," the boy whispered, looking down at his worn sneakers.
"She told me not to look back if the man in the white shirt saw me."
Jax’s blood ran ice-cold.
He looked up directly into the eyes of the white-shirted man now standing five feet away.
"Is there a problem here, Jax?" the man asked, his tone unnervingly calm.
"Mind your own business, Thomas," Jax replied, sliding his arm over the photograph and the note.
"Everything that happens in this town is my business," Thomas said softly.
Thomas adjusted the gold watch on his wrist.
"Especially when it involves my wife’s bastard son," Thomas added.
The boy flinched and stepped closer to Jax.
Jax’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned ghostly white.
"He's not a bastard," Jax snapped.
"And you need to back off before I tear this place apart."
Martha stepped between them, holding a coffee pot like a weapon.
"Not in my diner, boys," Martha warned, her eyes darting between them.
Thomas smiled, a slow, lifeless expression that didn't reach his eyes.
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"The boy comes with me," Thomas said quietly.
"He took something that belongs to my safe."
