The thunder of the engines was nearly louder than my own racing heart. As the sun slipped away, spreading golden light over the narrow lane, a small boy suddenly rushed into the street right in front of my motorcycle. He dropped to his knees, his face twisted with sheer panic.
My Triumph skidded to a halt, barely an inch from the child. I didnt bother with my stand; I leapt off as the boy wailed, Please! Please help my mum!
My eyes darted from him to the little brick terraced house nearby. A man loomed in the doorway, pint glass in hand, look on his mug sour and threatening. Without hesitation, I started towards them, boots thumping with purpose on the tarmac.
Keep behind me, lad, I said to the boy.
The man in the doorway snarled, Oi, what do you think youre doing? I didnt pause. My boot crashed the front door open, shards of glass scattering over faded carpet.
Inside, shadows clung to the narrow hall, thick with the stench of lager, sweat, and dread.
The boy clung to my battered jacket as I pressed on, his breath fast and shallow.
The bloke from the doorway was up again first.
You barking mad?
I turned just enough for him to clock my face.
And he froze.
Because I wasnt just any stranger passing through. I was Gabriel Reaper Kane.
Six-foot-four. Silver streaks in my beard. A jagged scar along my jaw. The sort of man you hear whispered about in service station cafes and old gaols. The type who puts an end to trouble, for good.
Whatever courage the man had vanished.
I strode towards the sound of muffled crying at the back.
The boy tugged desperately at my jacket. Shes in there.
A weak crash behind the door, then silence.
My whole body tensed. I covered the last steps and shoved the door open.
Time seemed to stop.
A woman on the floor, head pressed to her knees, a chair upturned nearby. Purple bruises marked her face, an extension lead hanging loose from her wrist.
What stopped me, though, was the little girl pressed into her side. No more than four. Clutching a threadbare stuffed bunny.
And chain around her necka silver coin, engraved with a black wolfs head.
I went completely still.
The woman looked up at me through tears, and the colour drained from her cheeks.
No
It was barely a whisper.
The man stumbled into the hallway again.
Oi, get out of my flat right now!
But I wasn’t listening. My eyes fixed on that cointhe emblem of the Iron Wolves MC. Only fully patched members carried those coins, and I remembered who had special ones made for a child.
My brother. Daniel Kane. Dead eight years.
The girl peeked up at me, fear shining in her big eyes.
And thenutterly impossible
She lifted the bunny a bit and whispered, Uncle Gabe?
The world lurched sideways.
The bloke stared, frozen again.
The womans head shook back and forth. No, no, please
I crouched slowly by the little girl, every old scar I carried feeling like nothing.
Whats your name, love?
Emma.
The name hit hard. Daniels girleveryone had been told she died in the fire with him.
The womans voice was barely a whimper. He lied
I turned now to the man in the hallway. I understood. This wasnt her real dad, just the sort who find lonely women and turn cruel.
He mustered what bluster he had left. Shes confused
I stood, suddenly too tall for this tight hall. He backed away.
Did you hit them? My voice was low and icy.
He gulped. Shes my wife
The wrong answer.
I moved too quickly and the boy screamed. In a breath, the man crashed through the hallway table, wood splintering along the wallpaper. The house shuddered.
I hauled him up by his shirt, looking straight into his eyes.
Daniel was my brother.
All the colour left his face. He finally grasped just how badly hed got this all wrong.
Behind me, the little girl sobbed harder, but not in fearbecause for the first time since the fire, someone had come for her, someone truly her family.
Sitting with Emma in that battered little room, I realised that sometimes all it takes is one persons courage to end someones nightmareand that even in a world as grimy as ours, hope can come roaring down the road, just in time.
