Chapter Seven: The Back Road

Backing the bike out wasn't nearly as easy as Jax made it look. My boots dragged against the asphalt, my arms straining as the heavy machine resisted me every inch of the way.

"Here," he said, stepping in without hesitation. His hands brushed along my arms as he reached for the bars, warm and steady, the faint smell of smoke and leather clinging to him. "Don't muscle her—guide her."

With him leaning in, the weight shifted, and suddenly the bike rolled back smooth, like it had been waiting for him. He stopped it with a sharp press of his boot and flashed me that crooked grin.

"Alright, Trouble. Let's see what you got."

My heart climbed into my throat. Still, I twisted the key, the engine roaring to life beneath me, vibrating straight into my bones. My fingers trembled on the grips, but I tightened them anyway.

"Easy," Jax murmured, his voice calm but close. He hovered his hands over mine, not quite touching but close enough to burn. "Clutch in... shift down... now ease it out. Slow. Don't fight her. You fight her, you'll lose."

The bike jerked forward, wobbling like a newborn fawn, and for a heartbeat I thought I'd send us both face-first into the pavement. But then Jax steadied me with the slightest nudge of the bars, his voice low in my ear.

"Relax. She's not out to kill you."

I let out a nervous laugh. "Feels like she wants to."

"Nah," he said, that smirk tugging at his lips. "She just wants you to respect her."

We rolled forward, out of the lot and onto the streets of Charming. The town was quiet at this hour, storefronts dark, streetlamps casting long pools of yellow across cracked sidewalks. The bike swayed under me, jerky and uneven, but the longer we rode, the steadier it felt.

"That's it," Jax said, his voice carrying over the rumble of the engine. "Eyes ahead, Trouble. Not on the ground. Look down, you're goin' down."

"Comforting," I muttered.

"You asked for the lesson," he shot back, a teasing lilt under the words.

The challenge came when we reached the turnoff toward the side road. My pulse hammered as I fumbled with the clutch and brake, the bike resisting me with every move. Jax's hands ghosted over mine again, guiding, steadying.

"Better," he said after we made the turn, the smirk back in his voice. "You'll live."

The side road stretched out long and empty, trees leaning in over the cracked asphalt, swallowing us in shadows. By the time we hit the back road, Jax had leaned away from me, giving me space. His voice was lighter now, teasing.

"Guess I'll just let you do all the work now."

I shook my head, laughing under my breath. "Yeah, right."

But then he leaned in again anyway, his chest brushing against my back, his hands settling firmly over mine. The heat of him seeped through me, grounding me even as the engine rattled beneath us.

"So," he started casually, "what're you plannin' on doin' with your dad's place?"

I kept my eyes on the road. "Haven't decided yet."

"And the Chevelle?"

"Fix it. Drive it. Sell it. Depends."

"Mmhm." He didn't believe me.

His questions circled, patient but sharp. Each time I gave him the same half-answers, dodging without meaning to. Until he asked the one I hadn't prepared for.

"Why Teller-Morrow?"

My grip tightened on the bars. "What?"

"You could've taken that car anywhere. Shops in Lodi, Stockton, hell, Modesto. But you brought it here. Why?"

The words lodged in my throat, but I forced them out. "Wanted to see some familiar faces. Haven't had that in a while."

"Familiar faces," he repeated, his voice low, skeptical.

"And I wanted to see if you were still that same guy I knew all those years ago."

There was a pause, heavy and sharp, broken only by the hum of the engine beneath us.

"I'm not," he said finally. "Things changed. I'm vice president now. Club comes first."

I risked a glance back, catching his profile in the glow of a passing streetlamp. "You ever miss it? The fun shit we used to do? Being reckless, thinking the world was ours?"

He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Not really. That never went away. Just the people changed. Reckless turned into different kinds of shit with the club."

The words hung between us, the road stretching long and quiet. And then—

Headlights flared out of the dark.

A bike swerved into our lane, cutting so close I could see the reflection of its chrome before I even registered the sound. My breath caught, knuckles white around the grips, panic flooding my chest.

Jax's voice snapped sharp behind me—"Hold steady!"