PART 2: The Name He Buried
Jace didn’t reach for the tag right away.
He just stared at it.
At the warped edges.
At the soot still caught in the grooves.
Like if he looked too fast, it might disappear—and take the name with it.
“Say that again,” he said.
His voice wasn’t steady anymore.
The girl held the chain out a little further.
“Eli,” she repeated softly. “He said you’d know.”
A chair scraped hard behind Jace.
One of the bikers shifted, tension snapping tight across the table.
Jace finally took the tag.
Carefully.
Like it could break.
His thumb dragged across the metal, stopping where the heat had scarred it. Something was still faintly visible beneath the burn—letters he didn’t need to fully see.
He already knew.
“He’s dead,” someone muttered from the table.
Not loud.
But enough.
Jace didn’t look back.
Didn’t react.
His eyes stayed on the girl.
“Where did you get this?” he asked.
She hesitated.
Then answered.
“He gave it to me,” she said. “Before the fire.”
The word hit harder than the name.
Fire.
Jace’s jaw tightened, something dark flickering behind his eyes.
“That place burned to the ground,” another biker said. “No one walked out.”
The girl shook her head.
“He did,” she said.
Simple.
Certain.
Jace leaned forward slightly.
“Then where is he now?” he asked.
Her small fingers tightened together.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He told me to run. To find you. Said you’d understand what to do.”
Silence pressed in.
Heavy.
Real.
Because that sounded exactly like Eli.
Jace closed his hand around the tag.
This time tighter.
Like he wasn’t letting it go again.
“What else did he say?” he asked.
The girl thought for a second.
Then—
“He said the raven still flies,” she whispered.
That broke something.
Not loud.
Not visible to most.
But the men at the table felt it.
Jace leaned back slowly, exhaling through his nose like he’d just taken a hit he wasn’t ready for.
“That was ours,” one of them said quietly. “No one else knew that.”
Jace nodded once.
“Yeah,” he said.
His voice had changed again.
Colder.
Focused.
Alive in a way it hadn’t been minutes ago.
He looked at the girl.
“How long ago?” he asked.
“Yesterday,” she said.
That landed like a shockwave.
Every man at that table straightened.
“Yesterday?” someone repeated.
Jace was already standing.
The chair didn’t scrape.
It just moved.
Fast.
“Then he’s still moving,” Jace said.
More to himself than anyone else.
The girl watched him closely.
“Can you help him?” she asked.
Jace looked down at her.
At the soot on her hands.
At the way she hadn’t broken under any of this.
Then at the tag in his hand.
Then at the men behind him.
Something settled.
Not doubt.
Decision.
“Yeah,” he said.
No hesitation.
“We can.”
He turned, grabbing his jacket in one motion.
“Finish up,” one of the bikers said automatically.
Jace shook his head.
“We don’t have time.”
That was enough.
Chairs moved.
Boots hit the floor.
The diner shifted from quiet to something else entirely—not chaos.
Purpose.
Jace knelt in front of the girl, just for a second.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She told him.
He nodded once.
“You ride with me,” he said.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Then she nodded.
Because there was nowhere else to go.
He stood, pulling his gloves back on, the raven tattoo disappearing beneath worn leather.
But not gone.
Never gone.
As they moved toward the door, one of the bikers spoke low behind him.
“You really think he made it out?”
Jace didn’t slow.
Didn’t look back.
“He didn’t send her unless he did,” he said.
The bell over the door rang again as they stepped out into the pale sunlight.
And for the first time in a long time—
The past wasn’t something chasing them.
It was something waiting.
And they were already on their way to meet it.
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