Chapter 3: The Interrogation and the Syndicate
The back room of the diner smelled of stale tobacco and old grease. The young man, whose wallet identified him as Trent, was duct-taped to a metal chair. His face was a bloody mess, his eyes wide with a primal terror he couldn't hide. He was surrounded by massive, silent men in leather, all staring at him with cold, dead eyes.
In the main dining area, Doc—the club's resident medic who had patched up more gunshot wounds than he could count—was working frantically on Rose. She had been stabilized, an IV drip hooked up to her arm, resting on a makeshift bed of booth cushions. Lily sat right beside her, refusing to let go of her mother’s hand, while Marge fed the little girl a plate of fries.
Jax walked into the back room. He moved slowly, deliberately. He dragged a chair across the floor and sat directly in front of Trent. He didn't yell. He didn't strike him. The quiet calm of the giant biker was infinitely more terrifying than any punch.
"You have exactly one minute to tell me why my sister was in your trunk, and why you were dragging my niece across state lines," Jax said, his voice smooth like crushed glass. "If I don't like the answer, we're going for a ride out to the desert. And you won't be coming back."
Trent swallowed hard, coughing on his own blood. "It wasn't... it wasn't my idea! Man, you don't understand who you're messing with! I'm just the transport!"
"Transport for who?" Brick growled from the corner, racking the slide of a heavy pistol for emphasis.
"The Vipers!" Trent screamed, shaking in his bindings. "Her husband... Lily's father. He got in deep with the Vipers. Owed them hundreds of thousands in gambling debts. When he couldn't pay, he... he sold them."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Jax’s jaw locked. A father selling his own flesh and blood to a ruthless crime syndicate to save his own skin.
"Rose grabbed the kid and ran," Trent continued, sobbing now. "She's been running for months. But they found her in Texas. My boss, Silas, told me to grab them both. The kid was supposed to be leverage to make the husband pay, and Rose... Silas had other plans for her. I was just supposed to deliver them! That's it!"
Jax stood up slowly. He looked at Trent like he was looking at a cockroach.
"You put your hands on my sister," Jax said softly. "You threw her in a trunk like a piece of luggage. You terrified a little girl."
"I had no choice! Silas will kill me!" Trent pleaded.
"Silas isn't the one standing in front of you," Jax replied.
Before Jax could say another word, the heavy wooden door of the back room burst open. It was one of the younger prospects, panting heavily.
"Jax! Trouble outside," the prospect warned. "Three black SUVs just pulled into the lot. Heavily armed. They're wearing Viper colors."
Trent let out a manic, desperate laugh. "I told you! You're all dead! Silas tracked my GPS!"
May you like
Jax didn't flinch. He turned back to Trent, delivered a swift, brutal strike to the man's jaw, instantly knocking him unconscious, and turned to his brothers. The emotional reunion was over. Now, it was a war.
"Lock the doors. Barricade the windows," Jax commanded, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "Nobody touches my family. Tonight, the Vipers learn why you don't hunt in a wolf's territory."
