As for Craig Bennett? He pled guilty and got twenty-five years. Justice, at least in part, was done.
People still glance at my tattoos, my vest, my scars, and instantly assume trouble. Maybe they’re right — for the kind of men who prey on the helpless.
That day in the cereal aisle gave a tired old biker something I didn’t know I was missing: purpose. A reason for all the miles, all the scars, all the years.
Sometimes the scariest-looking person in the room is the safest person to run to.
And if that’s the legacy I leave behind, it’s enough for me.
