Chapter 5 - The Drive Across Brooklyn
A heavy downpour was washing over the streets of Lower Manhattan as Jax pushed Maya into the passenger seat of a blacked-out SUV.
The engine roared to life, the tires screeching against the wet asphalt as he pulled into the midnight traffic on FDR Drive.
Maya slumped against the leather headrest, holding her bruised wrist against her chest as she stared out at the blurred city lights.
"Victor was just the foot soldier, Jax," Maya whispered, her voice cracking with exhaustion and residual adrenaline.
"The person who ordered the hit on my federal team sits on the regional task force in Washington."
Jax kept one hand on the steering wheel, his eyes tracking the side mirrors for tailing vehicles in the rain.
"My father warned me thirty years ago that politics and private security always end in a bloodbath," Jax muttered grimly.
He reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a roll of sterile gauze and a bottle of medical disinfectant.
"Clean that scrape on your knee before infection sets in," he ordered gently, tossing the supplies onto her lap.
Maya looked down at her scraped skin, taking a deep breath to steady her hands as she opened the bandage wrapper.
"Why did you trust me on the roof?" she asked, looking across the dark console at his sharp profile.
"I could have been setting you up for the syndicate, Jax."
May you like
Jax glanced at her for a fraction of a second, his eyes reflecting the red glow of the Brooklyn Bridge entrance sign.
"You came to me instead of going to the FBI," Jax answered simply. "That means you knew I was the only man alive who wouldn't compromise you."
