“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You’ll never leave me, right? Even if people call the cops again?”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away. Hell’s Angels couldn’t scare me off. The entire police force couldn’t keep me from these Saturdays with you.”
She giggled at his fierce tone, not knowing he meant every word. Not knowing that twenty combat missions hadn’t been as important to him as these two-hour Saturday meetings. Not knowing that she was saving him as much as he was saving her.
“Promise?” she asked, holding out her pinky.
He linked his pinky with hers, this giant warrior making a sacred vow to a seven-year-old girl in a fast-food restaurant.
“Promise.”
And everyone who’d witnessed their story – the veterans, the workers, the customers who’d gone from suspicious to supportive – knew that promise would be kept.
Because that’s what real bikers do. What real soldiers do. What real families do.
They show up.
They love without conditions.
Continue reading…
