Chapter 1

The music was loud, the air thick with sweat and cheap beer. It was my wedding night.

Jennifer, my fiancée, stood beside me on the juke joint's small stage, her voice wrapping around the notes I played.

She was beautiful. I was the luckiest man in the Mississippi Delta.

My fingers moved over the fretboard, a blur of motion. I could feel it building inside me, that raw, electric feeling I called my "Soul Chord." It was more than just music; it was my very essence poured into sound, a gift that made me a prodigy in the eyes of the old-timers.

Sabrina Clark, my adoptive mother and the most respected music promoter in the region, watched from the front table, a proud smile on her face. She was my mentor, the one who found me, an orphan with a guitar, and gave me a life.

Next to her, Caleb Hughes, our drummer, pounded away, his charismatic grin never fading. He was always a bit flashy, less about the music and more about the show, but he was part of our band, part of our family.

I looked at Jennifer, pouring all my love for her into the solo. This was it. This was our life starting.

Then the front doors of the juke joint burst open.

A dozen men, all leather and chains, stormed in. They weren't regulars. They were a biker gang from out of town, their faces hard and unfamiliar. The music died. The crowd froze.

They walked straight to the stage. Their leader pointed at me. "That's him."

Before I could react, they were on me. A fist slammed into my jaw, sending a shockwave through my skull. They dragged me off my feet. I saw Jennifer scream and Caleb duck behind his drum kit. Sabrina was on her feet, shouting, but the bikers pushed her back.

They held me down on the stage floor. I struggled, but my arms felt heavy, my muscles weak and unresponsive. Something was wrong. I wasn't just outnumbered; I was drained, my strength gone.

The leader knelt beside me, a ball-peen hammer in his hand. He smiled, a cold, empty thing. "Heard you got magic fingers, boy."

He grabbed my left hand and pinned it to the splintered wood of the stage.

"Let's see about that."

I watched in horror as he raised the hammer. The first blow was a sickening crunch. Pain, white-hot and absolute, exploded from my hand. I screamed. He brought the hammer down again, and again. I could hear the bones snap.

Then he singled out my fourth finger, my ring finger. The one I always felt the Soul Chord flow from. He took his time, placing the head of the hammer precisely on the knuckle.

"This one's special, I hear."

He brought it down with final, crushing force. The world went white.

Through a haze of agony, I saw Jennifer. She was shielding Caleb, pulling him behind her as if he were the one in danger. She was watching me. Her face was a mask of shock, but her eyes were cold, distant. She didn't move to help. She didn't scream for them to stop. She just watched as they destroyed me.