Biker Grabbed My Child Off the Sidewalk and Sped Away on His Harley

coffee and motor oil. Hank was in the second bay, wrist deep in an engine. He saw me come in and he straightened up real slow.

“You don’t quit, do you.”

“No.”

“What do you want.”

“I want to know why you were watching the street.”

He wiped his hands on a rag. He took a long time doing it.

“That’s not something I talk about.”

“My son is alive because of why continue reading …