The sun had dipped low, leaving streaks of purple and orange in the sky as Jax Teller’s motorcycle roared down the empty highway. Opie and Tig followed close behind, their headlights piercing the twilight. Up ahead, the flash of hazard lights caught their attention—a car stranded on the shoulder.

“Doesn’t look right,” Opie muttered over the comms. “Could be a setup.”

“Perfect spot for an ambush,” Tig agreed.

Jax’s sharp eyes caught sight of you standing beside the car, frantically waving. Something about your desperation made him slow. “I’ll check it out,” he said firmly, pulling off. “Stay back if you want.”

“Jax—” Opie started, but Jax was already approaching.

As he got closer, you spun toward him, tears streaking your face. “It’s my baby! She’s choking!” you cried, clutching a limp, tiny figure in your arms.

Jax’s heart clenched. “Opie, call 911!” he barked, stepping forward. “Let me see her.”

You hesitated, panic consuming you, but Jax’s calm resolve made you hand her over. The little girl’s face was flushed, her tiny body struggling for air.

“She’s not getting air,” Jax said, his voice steady despite the chaos. Holding her face-down along his arm, he gave a few firm pats between her shoulder blades. “Come on, baby girl.”

After a tense moment, she coughed, a faint cry following. Relief washed over Jax as he turned her over, watching her chest rise and fall. “She’s breathing,” he said softly, handing her back to you.

You collapsed to your knees, clutching her to your chest. “I thought I lost her,” you sobbed. “She wasn’t breathing—I didn’t know what to do.”

“You didn’t lose her,” Jax said gently, crouching beside you. “You got her help.”

Tears streamed down your face. “Thank you. You saved her.”

Jax gave a soft smile. “She’s a fighter, just like her mom.” The sound of sirens approached, and he stood. “They’ll take care of you.”