"Travis knows."
Marcus closed the door.
"Knows what?"
"That I talked to you."
"How?"
"He saw us."
Marcus's expression didn't change.
"Where is he?"
"At the diner."
"Did he follow you?"
"No."
"How did you get here?"
"My mother's old car."
Marcus nodded.
"Does he know where you live?"
"Yes."
"Then you're staying here."
Emily shook her head.
"I can't."
"You can."
"I have to go back."
"No."
She stared at him.
"You don't understand."
Marcus stepped closer.
"Then explain."
She took a trembling breath.
"Travis has my mother's house."
Marcus frowned.
"What?"
"He says I signed something."
"What did you sign?"
"I thought it was a loan agreement."
Marcus looked at Frank.
Frank immediately understood.
"Debt trap."
Emily nodded.
"He says if I leave, he'll report me for fraud."
Marcus was silent.
"Did you sign anything under pressure?"
"Yes."
"Did he threaten you?"
Emily looked away.
"Yes."
Marcus's voice became quiet.
"Then you're not going back."
She started crying.
Not loudly.
Just tears.
"I don't know what to do."
Marcus sat beside her.
"For tonight, you do nothing."
He looked at Frank.
"Call the sheriff."
Emily suddenly grabbed his arm.
"No."
"Why?"
"Travis owns them."
Marcus's expression darkened.
"Who?"
"The sheriff."
Silence.
Emily continued.
"He gives him money."
"You're sure?"
"I've seen it."
"How much?"
"I don't know."
Marcus looked at Frank.
"Call anyway."
Frank stepped outside.
Ten minutes later, he returned.
"The sheriff won't come."
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"What did he say?"
"Family dispute. No evidence."
Marcus stared at the floor.
Then he asked Emily:
"Do you have evidence?"
She slowly nodded.
"My mother kept journals."
"Where?"
"At the house."
Marcus stood.
"Then we get them."
Emily shook her head.
"That's impossible."
Marcus smiled.
"Nothing is impossible."
At 10:15 p.m., four Iron Wolves motorcycles rolled quietly through Red Hollow.
They stopped two streets from Emily's house.
Marcus, Frank, and Emily approached on foot.
The house was dark.
They entered through the back door.
Inside, everything had been overturned.
Drawers emptied.
Books scattered.
Furniture broken.
Emily covered her mouth.
"He was here."
Marcus looked around.
"Where would your mother keep something important?"
"She had a study."
They entered.
Emily moved toward a bookshelf.
She pulled out an old Bible.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a loose floorboard.
Marcus lifted it.
A metal box was hidden underneath.
Inside were journals.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
And a letter.
Emily opened it.
Her hands trembled.
It was from Harold.
She read silently.
Then handed it to Marcus.
The letter was short.
Harold wrote that Travis had been pressuring him to sell the diner.
He had discovered fraudulent transfers.
He planned to report Travis.
Then, suddenly, Harold disappeared.
Marcus looked at the final line.
"If anything happens to me, tell Emily that I am sorry I didn't protect her."
Emily collapsed into a chair.
Marcus closed his eyes.
For the first time that night, anger moved visibly across his face.
Not rage.
Something colder.
Resolve.
A sound came from outside.
Headlights.
Several vehicles.
Frank looked through the window.
"Company."
Marcus turned off the lights.
Three trucks stopped outside.
Travis stepped out.
Behind him were four men.
And one was wearing a sheriff's uniform.
Emily whispered:
"They found us."
Marcus looked at the Iron Wolves.
"Nobody touches her."
The bikers nodded.
Marcus opened the front door.
Travis looked surprised.
"Marcus."
Marcus walked onto the porch.
"You should have stayed out of this."
Marcus looked at the sheriff.
Then at Travis.
"You kidnapped Harold."
Travis laughed.
"Prove it."
Marcus held up the journal.
"We will."
Travis's smile vanished.
"Give me that."
"No."
The sheriff stepped forward.
"Marcus, this isn't your jurisdiction."
Marcus stared at him.
"No."
He pointed toward Emily.
"But protecting someone from a violent man is everybody's jurisdiction."
The sheriff reached for his weapon.
The Iron Wolves moved.
Not aggressively.
Simply together.
Twelve men stepped onto the porch.
The sheriff stopped.
Marcus said:
"Nobody here wants a fight."
Travis shouted:
"You think your little motorcycle club can intimidate us?"
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
He looked toward the road.
"You misunderstood."
A dozen headlights appeared in the distance.
Then another dozen.
Cars.
Trucks.
Residents of Red Hollow.
Word had spread.
People were coming.
Not because they loved bikers.
Because they had finally realized what was happening.
Marcus looked at Travis.
"You're not dealing with twelve bikers anymore."
The Town Watches
By midnight, nearly half of Red Hollow had gathered outside Emily's house.