"Why are you still here?"
Rooster looked over.
"Didn't have anywhere else to be."
"That's not true."
"Maybe."
She slowly sat up.
"Did you pay?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Don't worry."
"I need to know."
"No, you don't."
Rebecca looked toward Leo.
"People don't do things for free."
Rooster's expression changed.
"You're right."
He pulled the photograph from his pocket.
He placed it on the hospital bed.
Rebecca looked at it.
"That's your daughter?"
Rooster nodded.
"Sophie."
"What happened?"
Rooster was silent for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
"She had asthma."
Rebecca's heart sank.
"How bad?"
"Bad enough."
He stared at the photograph.
"I was young. Stupid. Broke."
He smiled without humor.
"I thought being broke was temporary."
Rebecca said nothing.
"I thought there'd always be another paycheck."
He rubbed the photograph with his thumb.
"Sophie had an attack one night."
His voice became quieter.
"We didn't have insurance."
Rebecca felt something tighten in her chest.
"We waited."
"Why?"
"Because I was afraid."
Rooster looked at her.
"I was afraid of the bill."
Rebecca lowered her eyes.
"I kept thinking she'd get better."
His jaw tightened.
"She didn't."
The room became silent.
"She died in the emergency department."
Rebecca looked at the photograph again.
Rooster continued.
"I held her until she stopped breathing."
He stared at the floor.
"Thirty years."
He shook his head.
"Thirty years, and I still remember exactly how heavy she felt."
Rebecca's eyes filled.
"I'm sorry."
Rooster nodded.
"Me too."
He looked toward Leo.
"That's why I paid."
Rebecca wiped her eyes.
"I don't want your pity."
"Good."
Rooster stood.
"I don't pity you."
She looked surprised.
"I respect you."
Rebecca didn't know what to say.
Rooster walked toward the door.
Then he stopped.
"You're not going back to that diner."
"I need the job."
"No."
"I need money."
"We'll figure that out."
"Who is 'we'?"
Rooster looked over his shoulder.
"The people who ride with me."
Rebecca shook her head.
"I don't need a gang."
Rooster smiled faintly.
"Didn't say you did."
He left.
But Rebecca didn't know that Rooster had already made a phone call.
And before sunrise, the story of the girl who had stood between two thieves and a Harley-Davidson was traveling through motorcycle clubs across California.
By morning, people Rebecca had never met knew her name.
By noon, Rooster knew something else.
Rebecca and Leo were about to become his responsibility.
Not because they had asked.
But because he had made a promise to himself thirty years ago.
A promise to a little girl named Sophie.
A promise he had never been able to keep.
Until now.
The Day Everything Disappeared
Five days later, Rebecca stood in the middle of her apartment.
There was almost nothing left.
Two suitcases.
A broken lamp.
A mattress.
Leo's plastic fire truck.
A box of schoolbooks.
That was all.
The eviction deadline had arrived.
Eight hundred dollars had become impossible.
The diner had fired her.
Sam had apologized.
He said the insurance company was worried.
He said customers were frightened.
He said business was suffering.
Rebecca understood.
That didn't make it hurt less.
She looked at Leo.
He was sitting on the floor.
"Where are we going?"
Rebecca forced a smile.
"Somewhere."
"Where?"
She swallowed.
"I don't know yet."
Leo looked at her.
"Can we take the fire truck?"
"Of course."
He picked it up.
Rebecca turned away so he wouldn't see her crying.
The shelter downtown had no room.
The cheapest motel wanted money she didn't have.
She considered sleeping in the car.
Then she remembered they didn't have a car.
She sat on the floor.
Leo climbed beside her.
"Becca?"
"Yeah?"
"Are we homeless?"
Rebecca closed her eyes.
She couldn't lie.
"I don't know."
Leo leaned against her.
She wrapped her good arm around him.
Then the building shook.
At first, Rebecca thought it was construction.
Then came another vibration.
And another.
A low rumble rolled through the parking lot.
Leo stood.
"What is that?"
Rebecca went to the window.
Her breath stopped.
Motorcycles.
Dozens.
Not five.
Not ten.
Thirty.
Thirty motorcycles filled the parking lot.
They were parked in a perfect line.
Black leather.
Chrome.
Engines ticking as they cooled.
The residents were peeking through blinds.
Nobody knew what was happening.
Rebecca did.
At the front of the group stood Rooster.
Beside him was an older man with silver hair.
Rebecca opened the door.
Rooster walked up the stairs.
"Rebecca."
She stared at him.
"What are you doing here?"
"Heard you were moving."
"I am."
"Where?"
She hesitated.
"Nowhere."
Rooster looked at Leo.