Ride With Me (Paige and Jace) novel Chapter 95

CHAPTER 59

The journals stayed on my mind long after Jace and the others left the basement so I carried three

leather bound books upstairs and set them carefully on the small table inside my apartment before making myself another cup of coffee. Diesel wandered over, sniffed the stack curiously,

then settled at my feet with a sigh that sounded almost human. –

“I know. I’d rather be rebuilding carburetors too.” I murmured, scratching behind his ears.

The apartment was unusually quiet. Normally I enjoyed the silence above the garage, but today it

felt heavier than usual.

Someone had searched Lawson Customs. Someone had been looking for information. Someone

already knew enough to believe Uncle Will had hidden something worth finding.

I pulled the first journal closer and opened it to the beginning. The handwriting immediately made my chest tighten. Every letter looked exactly as I remembered.

It felt strange hearing his voice again without actually hearing it.

The first several pages contained nothing mysterious. They were filled with restoration notes, paint codes, engine measurements, supplier phone numbers and reminders to order replacement parts before prices increased again and I smiled despite myself.

That sounded exactly like Uncle Will. He could rebuild an engine from memory, yet he still made

detailed notes about the smallest jobs because he believed good mechanics never relied on luck.

I turned another page and the entries slowly became more personal.

Paige finally rebuilt her first carburetor today without asking for help. She pretended she wasn’t

proud of herself but I caught her smiling when she thought I wasn’t looking.

I laughed quietly.

“I still wasn’t smiling.” I said and Diesel opened one eye.

“Don’t judge me.” I said.

Another entry followed several pages later.

She scraped both knees climbing onto the old Triumph today because she refused to admit it was too tall. Five minutes later she climbed back on and managed it perfectly. That stubborn streak will either save her life or drive me completely insane.

I shook my head.

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“Probably both.” I muttered.

The journals became less like business records and more like memories. There were stories about teaching me to change oil, reminders to buy my favorite cereal after school started, notes about birthdays and pages describing road trips we had taken together.

None of it felt extraordinary. It felt like family. Hours slipped by without me noticing.

Eventually I found myself reading less like an investigator and more like a niece who missed the man who had raised her but one entry stopped me.

She asked today why I always check the locks twice before bed. I told her old habits are hard to break. Maybe one day she’ll understand why careful people live longer.

I frowned. That wasn’t unusual by itself. Uncle Will had always been cautious. Still, after everything that had happened recently, the sentence carried a different weight so I continued reading.

Several pages later another line caught my attention.

Some things are worth protecting even when nobody else knows they exist.

I slowly read it again. There was no explanation beneath it but no mention of what he meant.

The following page returned to ordinary workshop notes as though nothing unusual had been

written.

I reached for another journal and this one covered several years while I was finishing high school.

Most of it revolved around ordinary life. Helping me study. Teaching me to drive. Complaining that

I still forgot to put tools back where they belonged.

“I did not.” I said.

Diesel looked completely unconvinced.

“Fine. Maybe sometimes.” I said as I smiled and then another sentence stood out.

She keeps asking questions I can’t answer yet. The less she knows, the safer she stays.

A cold feeling settled in my stomach. Safer and the word appeared again. Not often but just

enough to catch my attention.

Individually they meant very little. Together they formed a pattern I couldn’t ignore and I leaned back in my chair and rubbed tired eyes.

“What were you protecting, Uncle Will?” I asked but of course the apartment offered no answer.

A knock sounded downstairs so I closed the journal and carried it carefully back into the office

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CHAPTER 59

before heading outside.

Jace stood beside his motorcycle with two takeaway coffees balanced in one hand.

“I thought you might need a break.” He said.

“I definitely do.” I said as he handed me one of the cups.

“You’ve been reading all afternoon.” He said.

“Is it that obvious?” I asked.

“You’ve got ink on your fingers.” He said so I looked down and laughed.

“I guess it is.” I said.

Clai

We sat together on the front step outside the garage while customers came and went. For several minutes neither of us mentioned the journals.

The ordinary sounds of the workshop filled the silence and Ben arguing with an engine.

Mia answering the phone. Someone laughing in the service bay. Life continued and eventually

Jace looked at me.

“Find anything?” Jace asked.

“I found Uncle Will. Not secrets. Just… him.” I said as I stared into my coffee.

“The journals are mostly about motorcycles. And me. He wrote about teaching me, he wrote about birthdays and he wrote about road trips.” I said as a smile touched my face.

“He even wrote about the first time I nearly dropped an engine block on my own foot.” I continued

and Jace chuckled.

“I’m guessing you blamed the engine.” He said.

“I absolutely blamed the engine.” I said and his smile faded slightly.

“But?” He asked.

“There are little comments.” I said.

“What kind of comments?” He asked.

“About protecting something. About keeping me safe and about knowing things he couldn’t tell me.” I said sighing.

“They’re scattered through different journals. They never explain anything. They just… stop.” I continued and Jace nodded thoughtfully.

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“I can see why that’s bothering you.” He said.

“feel like I’m missing half the story.” I said.

Cham

“Maybe you are. But don’t let unanswered questions become your whole life.” He said as he rested

his forearms on his knees and I looked at him.

“It’s easy to chase mysteries until they become all you think about. You still have a business, you still have people who care about you and You still have a future.” He said as his voice remained

calm.

“If Uncle Will wanted you to spend every waking hour searching for clues, I don’t think he’d have

filled most of those journals with stories about teaching you how to live.” He continued and I

smiled slowly.

“That sounds like something he’d say.” I said.

“I think he’d want you to keep living while you look. Not stop living because you’re looking.” He said

and I let those words settle.

He was right. The journals mattered, finding the truth mattered but Lawson Customs mattered

too. So did the people who had become my family.

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