She ran outside.
"HEY!"
The thieves spun around.
Rebecca stood beneath the broken neon, gripping the iron bar with both hands.
"Get away from that motorcycle!"
The shaved-headed man laughed.
"You serious?"
"Back away."
"Go inside, sweetheart."
"That's not your bike."
"No kidding."
He stepped toward her.
"This is none of your business."
Rebecca planted her feet.
"It is if you're stealing it from my workplace."
The second man laughed.
"You got a death wish?"
Rebecca raised the tire iron.
"No."
Her voice shook.
"But apparently you do."
The two men stared at her.
Then the greasy-haired man moved toward the Harley.
Rebecca stepped between him and the motorcycle.
"Don't."
He reached for her shoulder.
She swung.
The tire iron struck his forearm.
He screamed.
The bolt cutters fell onto the pavement.
"You broke my arm!"
Rebecca backed away.
Her heart was pounding.
The shaved-headed man stared at her.
His expression had changed.
He reached inside his jacket.
Rebecca saw the knife.
Everything slowed.
A switchblade opened with a metallic click.
"You stupid little girl."
Rebecca raised the tire iron.
The man approached.
She thought about Leo.
She thought about the hospital.
She thought about how badly she wanted to go home.
The man lunged.
Rebecca swung.
He ducked.
The knife flashed.
Pain exploded through her arm.
Rebecca screamed.
She stumbled backward against the Harley.
Blood poured from the cut.
The thief raised the knife again.
"Drop it."
Rebecca's hands trembled.
She couldn't.
The man stepped closer.
Then he heard a voice.
"What do you think you're doing?"
The thief froze.
Rebecca looked past him.
Rooster stood in the doorway.
He had removed his hoodie.
His tattooed arms were exposed.
His expression was no longer tired.
It was cold.
Completely cold.
He looked at Rebecca's bleeding arm.
Then at the motorcycle.
Then at the knife.
The parking lot seemed to shrink around him.
Rooster stepped outside.
The thief lifted the blade.
"Stay back."
Rooster continued walking.
"I said stay back!"
Rooster stopped.
"You've got one chance."
The thief lunged.
Rooster moved.
His hand caught the man's wrist.
The knife fell.
The thief screamed.
Rooster twisted him away and struck him hard enough to send him crashing against the truck.
The second thief scrambled toward the driver's door.
Rooster didn't even look at him.
"Run."
The man didn't need to be told twice.
The Ford screamed out of the parking lot.
Rooster turned back toward the first thief.
The man was on his knees.
Rooster stared down at him.
"You picked the wrong bike."
Then his attention shifted.
Rebecca was still standing.
Barely.
Blood ran down her fingers.
Rooster's expression changed instantly.
He crossed the distance between them.
"You hurt?"
Rebecca nodded.
"My arm."
Rooster tore the sleeve of his hoodie and wrapped it around the wound.
Rebecca winced.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Your bike."
Rooster stared at her.
"My bike?"
She nodded.
"You were protecting it."
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
"I couldn't let them take it."
"Why?"
She looked away.
"Because if something happened here, Sam would fire me."
Rooster stared at her.
"You're sixteen."
Rebecca froze.
"How do you know?"
"You look sixteen."
She didn't answer.
Rooster glanced through the broken doorway.
Then he saw Leo.
The little boy was still asleep.
Rooster's face became strangely distant.
For one moment, he wasn't looking at Leo.
He was looking at someone else.
Someone from thirty years ago.
A baby wrapped in pink.
He swallowed.
"Call an ambulance."
Rebecca immediately shook her head.
"No."
"You need stitches."
"I can't afford it."
"I didn't ask if you could."
"I can't."
Rooster looked at her.
"What's your name?"
"Rebecca."
"Rebecca, you're going to the hospital."
She looked terrified.
"Who's going to watch Leo?"
Rooster glanced toward the boy.
"I will."
"You?"
"Me."
She shook her head.
"You don't even know us."
Rooster's eyes hardened.
"Maybe I should."
The ambulance arrived ten minutes later.
Rebecca tried to argue about the cost.
Rooster climbed into the ambulance beside Leo.
"Don't worry about the bill," he said.
Rebecca looked at him.
"Why?"
Rooster looked down at the sleeping boy.
His answer was quiet.
"Because some debts don't belong to the people who owe them."
The Ghost in the Photograph
The hospital stitched Rebecca's arm.
The cut was deep but clean.
The doctor told her she was lucky.
Rebecca didn't feel lucky.
She felt exhausted.
When she woke after the pain medication, she found Leo asleep in a chair.
Rooster was sitting beside the window.
He hadn't left.
Rebecca stared at him.