The thunder of engines was only just louder than the pounding of my heart. Dusk rolled in, painting the high street in shades of gold, when a young boy dashed into the middle of the road, dropping to his knees with absolute terror written on his face.
My motorbike screeched to a halt just shy of flattening him. I barely paused to put the stand down before leaping off, boots hitting the tarmac. The boy wailed through his sobs, Please! Please help my mum!
My attention snapped to a small semi-detached a few doors up. On the front step, a man lounged with pint glass in hand, lips curled in a sneer, squaring up for a row. Without a thought, I moved forwardeach step heavy as a drum.
Stay behind me, lad, I told the boy, and he latched onto my jacket, hands shaking.
I marched up the garden path. The man set his drink aside, bellowing, What do you think youre doing here? But I didnt stop. One hard boot sent the door flying inward, glass smashing out into the flowerbed.
Inside, the air was thick with the reek of lager, sweat, and fear. The hallway was strewn with empty tins and broken bits of things. My boots crunched over broken glass as I pressed on, the boy clinging tighter to my old leather vest.
The bloke from the doorway finally caught up, cursing, but I turned so he could see my face properlyand that made him stop dead.
Not some random stranger passing through. But meGabriel Reaper Kane. Six-foot-four, streaks of grey in my beard, ugly scar down one side of my neck. The kind of name whispered about on building sites and laybys. The kind of man people called to end trouble, not start it.
Whatever swagger hed worked up crumbled away.
I ignored him and headed deeper, following the sounds of crying. The boy tugged at my vest, desperate. Shes in there.
A crash splintered the quiet behind the last doorthen all went still.
I reached the room in three long strides and thrust the door open.
You could feel the whole house holding its breath.
A woman was curled on the carpet next to an upended chair, bruises swallowing one side of her face. One wrist was looped with a cheap extension lead. But what stopped me cold wasnt her injuries.
It was the little girl pressed against her.
Maybe four years old, clutching a well-loved stuffed rabbit. And around her necka silver coin.
I froze.
The woman looked up through bloodshot eyes and saw meher face went ghostly.
No she whispered, barely more than air.
The bloke stumbled down the hall behind, spitting, Get out of my house.
I didnt move. My stare locked on the coina round bit of silver, a black wolf engraved in the centre. My old crews emblem, the Iron Wolves. Only proper members carried those coins. Only one of us ever bothered getting tiny ones for kids.
My brother, Daniel. Dead nearly a decade.
The girl stared at me, wide-eyed.
She lifted her rabbit, voice a frightened whisper. Uncle Gabe?
The room shifted on its axis. The woman shook her head, mouthing No, no but couldnt form anything else.
I crouched down in front of the girl, every ache and scar Id ever earned irrelevant in that moment. What did you call me, love?
She gripped the rabbit tighter. Mummy said if anything bad ever happened to find the man with the wolf.
The boy hanging back in the hall looked lost.
Your mum?
And just like that, the woman broke down sobbing.
Turned out, the terrified boy whod dashed into the road wasnt her sonjust her daughters friend from next door. Hed come for help when nobody else would.
I turned to the little girl. Whats your name, love?
Emily, she whispered.
That name landed like a punch. Daniels daughter was meant to have perished with himso the story went. It was what everyone believed.
The woman looked utterly spent. He lied she murmured.
I faced the man in the hall. Finally, it all slotted together. Not her father, but a stepfatherthe kind that sniff out vulnerable women, cut them off, and then get nasty.
The man tried to bluff, but I could see the tremor in his hands.
Shes confused, he stuttered.
I stood, filling the hallway. He took one giant step backwards.
Did you lay a hand on them? My voice was quiet now, which was much worse than a shout.
His grip on composure loosened entirely. Shes my wife.
Wrong answer.
I moved quicker than he could brace for. The boy screamed as I launched the man through the hall table, shattering it into splinters. The house rattled with the impact.
I grabbed him by the shirt, hoisting him half off the ground.
Daniel was my brother.
The little girl began sobbingnot in fear now, but because for the first time since the fire, someone who truly belonged had come to her.
Tonight, I learned theres nothing more powerful than familyespecially for those small enough to be hurt when grown-ups forget what love and bravery mean. Sometimes, someone must be the reason trouble comes to an end. And this time, it was me.
