That little girl walked into a biker bar at midnight and asked the most feared man in town to help her find her mom.
Every biker, clad in leather, fell into a sepulchral silence in that smoke-filled bar. The girl, in pajamas covered with Disney princesses, stood at the doorway with tears streaming down her cheeks, staring at thirty rough men as if they were her last hope. Johnny Cash played in the background, but the music seemed to fade. Even the pool games froze mid-shot.
The girl walked straight toward Snake, president of the Iron Wolves MCβa man six foot four, with a scarred face and arms like tree trunks. She tugged on his leather vest and spoke the words that would mobilize an entire motorcycle club and bring to light the darkest secret of our town:
ββThe bad man locked Mom in the basement and she wonβt wake up,β she whispered. βHe said if I told anyone, heβd hurt my little brother. But Mom said bikers protect people.β
Not the police. Not the neighbors. Not any of the βrespectableβ townsfolk. That girlβs mother had told her that if she ever truly needed help, she should seek the bikers.
Snake knelt down to her level; his massive frame made the child seem even smaller. The entire bar held its breath.
ββWhatβs your name, princess?β he asked, his voice deep but softer than weβd ever heard it.
ββEmma,β she replied, and then added something that made every biker in the room reach for his phone at the same time: βThe bad man is a cop. Thatβs why Mom said to find the bikers.β Watch: [in comment] – Made with AI
