Chapter 15 - The Iron Horse Dawn
Jax lowered the gun.
Silas blinked in disbelief, a mocking sneer forming on his bloody lips. "Too soft, Jax? Can't pull the trigger on an old brother?"
"You're not a brother," Jax said calmly, sliding the pistol back into his holster. "And death is too clean for you. Bear already called the federal marshals. That key in there opens everything you ever stole, Silas. You're going to spend the rest of your miserable life in a concrete box, watching your empire rot to dust."
He turned his back on Silas and walked away, ignoring the man’s sudden, panicked curses that were quickly silenced by Bear's heavy hand.
Two days later, the sun broke through the storm clouds over Highway 9, turning the mountain peaks into gleaming gold. Outside Clara's diner, the pavement was dry. Clara was leaning against the doorway, wiping down the counter glass with a genuine, beaming smile on her face.
Jax stood beside his newly tuned Harley. Sitting securely behind him, wearing a brand-new leather jacket, small riding goggles, and a clean pair of red sneakers, was Leo. A small leather patch had been freshly sewn onto the front of the boy’s cut: LITTLE JAX.
"You ready, son?" Jax asked, looking over his shoulder.
Leo smiled, his face full of color, his big hazel eyes shining not with fear or longing, but with absolute belonging. In his small hand, he clutched the old faded photograph, neatly tucked inside a clear plastic laminate case.
"Where are we going?" Leo asked.
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Jax kicked the starter. The twin-cylinder engine erupted with a glorious, earth-shaking roar that chased away the last shadows of the dark mountain road.
"Home," Jax said, rolling the throttle. "Wherever the road takes us."
