A cheap plastic chip. Worn smooth.
“Eleven years sober. Three years out of prison. I did eight. Should’ve been twenty. Emma’s family asked the judge to go easy on me.”
I stared at him.
“Her family asked the judge to go easy on you?”
“Her daddy,” the biker said. “David. He came to every hearing. He never raised his voice. Never called me anything but ‘sir.continue reading …
