Chapter 6 - The Encounter at the Diner
Leo looked at his mother with wide, serious hazel eyes. He sensed the gravity in her voice; children always knew when the world was shifting beneath their feet.
""Do you see the diner through the window?"" Clara pointed toward the glowing neon sign of the roadside diner, buzzing faintly against the mist. ""Inside, sitting at the counter, there might be people who know who we are. But there's someone you need to find.""
Clara had tracked a lead from Arthur's note. Julian's estranged older brother, Jackson—a man who had walked away from the Sterling wealth twenty years ago to build a life far removed from Eleanor's venom—was known to manage the local motorcycle trade near Pine Valley. He was the only man Eleanor feared, and the only person Julian had never dared to cross.
""Take this photo,"" Clara instructed gently, slipping the faded picture and a small, folded piece of paper into Leo's worn jacket pocket. ""If you see a tall man with long dark hair, tattoos, and a leather vest sitting by the counter, walk up to him. Show him the picture. Give him the note.""
""Aren't you coming with me, Mom?"" Leo asked, his lower lip trembling slightly.
""I am watching you from right here by the door,"" Clara assured him, kissing his forehead with fierce devotion. ""If anyone tries to stop you, or if you feel scared, you come right back out. But remember: you are a brave boy. You carry my strength in you.""
Leo nodded, swallowed his fear, and pulled his old jacket tighter around his shoulders. He pushed open the heavy truck door, his scuffed sneakers hitting the wet gravel.
Inside the diner, the smell of burnt coffee, fried onions, and leather hung thick in the air. The place was packed with burly men and road-worn travelers speaking in low murmurs over clattering porcelain plates. At the far end of the counter sat a man who looked like an immovable oak—Jax. His tattooed forearms rested beside a ceramic coffee cup, his long dark hair shot with gray, his jaw tight with the weary calm of a man who had survived a dozen storms.
Leo walked straight down the center aisle, his small frame looking impossibly fragile among the hulking figures in leather. The patrons glanced down in quiet bewilderment at the lone child navigating their ranks.
Leo reached the stool beside Jax. He paused, swallowed hard, and spoke softly.
May you like
""Jax…""
The tall biker turned his head slowly, his piercing dark eyes narrowing as he looked down at the boy standing beside his boots.
