Chapter 10 - The Cabin in the Pines
The gravity of the threat settled over Clara like a suffocating shroud. Leo was ten months old. There were six weeks left until his first birthday. Six weeks where every hitman, corrupt lawyer, and cartel affiliate on the continent had a multi-million-dollar incentive to ensure an infant never saw the sun rise on his twelfth month.
""We can't hide in a hotel,"" Clara said, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper. ""They have facial recognition, bank access, everything.""
""We aren't going to a hotel,"" Jax said, pulling a roll of gauze and an antiseptic bottle from his saddlebag. He winced as he pressed the cotton against his side, staunching the steady ooze of blood. ""My club kept an off-grid cabin twelve miles north of here. No power, no water line, no deeds registered with the county. We lay low there until I can secure transport out of the country.""
Clara helped him wrap the bandage tightly around his ribs. Jax's skin was hot to the touch; fever was already threatening him, but his resolve remained ironclad.
They walked the motorcycle the remaining distance down the overgrown trail to avoid engine noise. The cabin was a primitive structure made of rough-hewn pine logs, completely buried beneath a canopy of towering hemlocks. It smelled of old woodsmoke and damp earth. Inside, Jax lit an oil lantern, its soft amber glow chasing away the gloom.
Jax collapsed into a heavy wooden chair, his face pale under the lantern light. Clara found a clean blanket in a storage chest and fashioned a small bed for Leo on the floor beside the hearth.
Leo crawled onto the blanket, but he didn't sleep. He sat upright, his eyes darting between Jax and the heavy oak door. He reached into his jumpsuit pocket, his tiny fingers curling around a small, crumpled piece of paper that Jax had dropped during the fight at the house.
May you like
He extended his arm, offering the paper to Jax.
Jax stared down at the child’s outstretched hand. ""What did you find, little man?""
