Jamie’s blood ran cold. His mother hadn’t died in a car crash twelve years ago. She had disappeared.
Before Jamie could demand a single answer, his manager marched over, slamming a hand on the booth. “You can’t do that!”
Jamie’s jaw tightened. He shoved the faded photograph deep into his apron. “He shouldn’t leave hungry.”
The biker didn’t even flinch at the manager’s shouting. He just locked eyes with Jamie, his rugged, scarred face softening into a cryptic, almost sinister smile. “Thank you, son.”
He turned and pushed through the glass doors into the blinding daylight.
Jamie looked back down at the table. His cash sat exactly where he’d placed it. But the massive silver ring—the one the biker swore was all he had left—was gone. In its place lay a heavy, matte-black flash drive bearing a jagged crest. The exact same crest tattooed across the biker’s exposed chest.
Outside, the biker’s exhausted, defeated posture instantly vanished. He stood tall, pulling a burner phone to his ear. A ruthless, shark-like grin spread across his face as he stared through the glass straight at Jamie.
“Yeah,” the biker said, his voice dripping with dark triumph. “I found the kid. The drop is made. He took the bait.”
Inside the diner, the manager reached for the flash drive, but Jamie snatched it first.
Suddenly, the diner’s dusty payphone rang. It hadn’t worked in years. The manager backed away, terrified. Jamie picked up the receiver.
A distorted, metallic voice echoed through the speaker. *“Your mother stole ten million dollars from us, Jamie. That drive shows you where she buried it. You have twenty-four hours to bring it home… or we finish the job we started on her.”*
Jamie glanced out the window. The biker was gone. But a black SUV with tinted windows was now idling right outside the doors.