The biker slowly removed his gloves, eyes fixed on the little girl like he was staring at a ghost.

“Who told you that name?” he asked quietly.

The girl tightened her grip on his sleeve. “My mom. Before she disappeared.”

A heavy silence settled over the gas station. Only the flickering neon sign buzzed above them.

From the darkness behind the fuel pumps, a tall man stepped forward wearing a long black coat. His face stayed hidden beneath the shadow of his hood.

“You should’ve stayed buried, Mason,” the stranger said.

The biker’s jaw tightened instantly.

Mason Reed.

Former road captain of the Iron Vultures.

A man everyone believed had died ten years ago.

The little girl looked between them nervously. “You know him?”

Mason didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the stranger.

“Cole,” he muttered. “I should’ve known.”

The stranger smirked. “Harper trusted the wrong people. That was his mistake.”

At the mention of Harper Clark, memories crashed into Mason’s mind like thunder.

The fire.
The gunshots.
The screaming.

And Harper falling to the ground while the rest of the crew scattered into the night.

For years, Mason believed a rival gang had betrayed them. That’s what everyone was told. But deep down, something never felt right.

Now the truth was standing right in front of him.

“You sold us out,” Mason growled.

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Cole stepped closer under the dim light. “I saved myself. There’s a difference.”

The little girl slowly backed away, confused and frightened.

“My mother said Harper hid something before he died,” she whispered. “Something people would kill for.”

Mason looked at her sharply. “What’s your name?”

“Emma.”

The moment she answered, Mason’s expression changed completely.

Harper once showed him a photo of a newborn daughter wrapped in a hospital blanket.

Emma.

Harper’s daughter.

Cole noticed it too. His calm expression vanished for the first time.

“Well,” he said coldly, reaching inside his coat, “that explains why she’s still alive.”

Before Emma could react, Mason shoved her behind him.

A gun appeared in Cole’s hand.

So did another in Mason’s.

The parking lot exploded with tension.

Rain began falling softly onto the cracked concrete as the two men stared each other down, both haunted by the same bloody night.

“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” Mason said.

Cole smiled darkly. “I tried.”

Then the first shot shattered the silence.