Chapter 12: Standing Ground
“You’re making a mistake, Jax,” Vance shouted over the rising wind, stopping twenty feet away with his two companions spread out on either side. “That kid’s got papers in his jacket that belong in a county burn barrel. The syndicate bought those land titles three years ago, and if you bring him and those records to the hospital, the whole deal falls apart. We’ve got too much money tied up in that zoning permit.”
Jax stopped walking, his broad shoulders squared inside the battered leather vest. The afternoon sun broke weakly through a gray gap in the clouds, catching the faded silver ring on his right hand. “Money,” Jax repeated, the word flat and heavy. “That’s all you ever cared about, Vance. You and the boys in the boardroom think you can bulldoze a man’s family history just because he made a few bad choices twenty years ago and walked away.”
“You walked away voluntarily,” Vance snarled, stepping closer while his friend behind him shifted his weight nervously. “You left the club. You left the girl. You left everything behind in a cloud of dust. You don't get to come back now and play guardian angel just because an eight-year-old kid showed up at a diner with a faded photograph.”
“Try me,” Jax said simply.
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He didn't yell, and he didn't reach for a weapon, but the absolute stillness in his stance made Vance hesitate. I watched from the saddle of the motorcycle, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I reached inside my jacket, my fingers brushing against the cold paper of the county records file and the old faded photograph of a young biker holding a baby in the sunlight. I knew what was at stake now. It wasn't just about an old house or a broken promise; it was about whether a person could ever truly fix what they broke.
Slowly, Vance lowered the tire iron an inch, his eyes darting toward the highway where a state trooper cruiser was just visible cresting the distant rise, its yellow hazard lights flashing against the gray horizon. Vance cursed under his breath, spat on the gravel, and turned back toward his truck. “This isn't over, Jax. You can’t protect that kid forever.”
