Mason slowly lowered his food to the plate. "You okay, sweetheart?" his deep voice rumbled, a stark contrast to the surrounding noise.
The child’s knuckles turned white as she twisted the thick leather of his vest. She leaned in, her voice trembling as she delivered five words that shattered the ambient noise in Mason’s mind.
"You have to get out."
The faint smile resting on Mason's lips vanished instantly. Across the scarred wooden table, his oldest confidant, Calvin Mercer, froze, his own laughter dying in his throat. Calvin—known to everyone as Saint for his uncanny ability to de-escalate fatal brawls—had ridden at Mason's right flank for twenty-seven years. He recognized the shift in the room's atmosphere before anyone else.
Calvin leaned forward, his voice dropping an octave. "What happened?"
The girl ignored him, her panicked eyes glued to Mason.
"Why do I have to leave?" Mason asked, keeping his tone carefully measured, projecting a shield of absolute calm.
The child swallowed hard, a tiny, terrified gulp. "They're coming."
"Who?"
Before the word could leave her lips, the diner door was shoved open with enough force to rattle the glass. The heavy laughter at the window tables evaporated into a heavy, dangerous silence.
A man stepped over the threshold. He was somewhere on the edge of forty, with close-cropped dark hair and a jaw set like a steel trap. He wore a heavy dark jacket, the knees of his jeans damp, thick mud caked into the treads of his heavy boots. He didn't casually scan the room for an open booth; his eyes darted methodically from face to face, a predator tracking a scent.
When his gaze finally locked onto the small girl in the yellow shirt, his rigid shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. "There you are."
A soft, terrified whimper escaped the girl's throat as she scrambled backward, pressing herself completely behind the broad shield of Mason's chair.
Around the room, the scrape of heavy boots sounded against the floor. Several bikers stood up in perfect, unspoken unison. Across the table, Cal slowly, deliberately pushed his chair away, giving his hands clearance.