Chapter 8 - The Hidden Garage
After nearly a mile of grueling trek through the dark forest, the dense canopy began to thin, revealing a rusted corrugated metal shed half-swallowed by overgrown blackberry bushes and wild ivy. Jax approached a heavy padlock, pulled a small brass key from an inner pocket of his leather vest, and clicked the lock open with practiced stealth. He slid the creaking metal door aside just enough for them to slip inside before closing it securely behind them. The interior smelled of old motor oil, gasoline, and dust, but it was dry and hidden from the world. Jax flicked on a small battery-powered work light, revealing a second, older motorcycle covered by a dusty canvas tarp, alongside several shelves lined with old tools and spare parts. The girl sank onto an overturned wooden crate, finally letting out a long, shaky breath, her hands still clutching the smartphone she had refused to drop throughout the entire chase. Jax walked over to a workbench, picked up a greasy rag, and began wiping his hands, his eyes studying her with a mixture of guarded concern and lingering guilt. ""You've got more grit than most grown men I know,"" he muttered, tossing the rag onto the table. ""Now, tell me who gave you that phone and why those men are looking for you.""
