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“Just come with me,” he said, leading me outside.
We exited the plantation house and when we came out there was a group of Dylan’s men gathered around a few small children. I frowned deeply and looked at the two children then at the people gathered around them.
“What’s-,” I started.
“Be quiet and watch,” he said, nodding towards them.
A woman came running through the crowd of men and scooped the children into her arms, sobbing softly and stroking their hair.
“My babies! My babies are back!” she wailed.
“We rescued those kids.”
“What?” I asked, eyes wide.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded towards the bar that served the patrons of the small biker town. I followed him inside and we settled on stools. He grabbed the nearest bottle of booze and poured us each a shot. He downed his in one fell swoop and I sipped at mine.
“You wanted me to see that?”
“You're damn right I did,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“Because you think we’re the bad guys.”
I looked away and frowned. “I’m starting to see I was wrong.”
A moment of silence passed between us and I glanced at him. “Why are you guys so different from the rest?”
“I inherited it.”
“There’s more than that,” I murmured.
He hesitated and turned the glass over in his hands and then looked at me. “When I was little, just a kid, I wanted to be a cop. My dad thought I was crazy. I was next in line to take over a biker gang and I wanted to be a cop,” he snorted at the irony. “Then I saw a cop beat the ever living shit out of a poor homeless person. My younger brother, Mikie, was extremely naïve and he wasn’t afraid of anything. He jumped in without warning to help the homeless guy and he got a bullet in the head. The cop didn’t see a lick of jail time because he said it was self-defense, but I saw everything,” he said with tears running down his face. “I gave a statement and organized several rallies, but no one listened.”
It was a horrible thing to hear. Dylan losing his younger brother right in front of him. This was the first time Dylan really opened up to me and I wasn’t about to ruin it by opening my mouth and unintentionally saying something stupid.
“That’s when I realized I didn’t want to be a cop. I wanted to see justice be done. My dad was the one who started this thing. We did it for Mikie. We did it for our community. We’re new kids on the scene, so to speak. Out here, women and children don’t always get justice. We speak for those who can’t speak for themselves and we protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
I nodded and finished off my glass, filling it up again. “I’m very sorry to hear about Mikey. He must be very proud of everything you’re doing. Can you tell me about these kids?”
“Dad was a drug dealer, but he makes plenty of money and the mom is basically homeless. She lives with us, but living with a biker gang isn’t the best thing. The court gave him custody, even though he just wants to use them as drug mules. Kids make great drug mules. We went over there and convinced him to sign over custody.”
“Convinced?”
“We beat his ass until he agreed to sign the papers.”
I paused and nodded. “Won’t he just go to the cops?”
“Not with the dirt we have on him.”
A smile came to my face and I looked over at him. “You know. You talk a big game, but you aren’t such a badass,” I murmured.
“Says you.”
“I mean it. Well, you are a badass, but you aren’t a bad guy. There’s a difference.”
He nodded and smirked. “Whatever you say doll.”
