The biker slowly removed his gloves, eyes fixed on the little girl like he was staring at a ghost.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho told you that name?\u201d he asked quietly.<\/p>\n
The girl tightened her grip on his sleeve. \u201cMy mom. Before she disappeared.\u201d<\/p>\n
A heavy silence settled over the gas station. Only the flickering neon sign buzzed above them.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should\u2019ve stayed buried, Mason,\u201d the stranger said.<\/p>\n
The biker\u2019s jaw tightened instantly.<\/p>\n
Mason Reed.<\/p>\n
Former road captain of the Iron Vultures.<\/p>\n
A man everyone believed had died ten years ago.<\/p>\n
The little girl looked between them nervously. \u201cYou know him?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mason didn\u2019t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the stranger.<\/p>\n
\u201cCole,\u201d he muttered. \u201cI should\u2019ve known.\u201d<\/p>\n
The stranger smirked. \u201cHarper trusted the wrong people. That was his mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
At the mention of Harper Clark, memories crashed into Mason\u2019s mind like thunder.<\/p>\n
The fire.
\nThe gunshots.
\nThe screaming.<\/p>\n
And Harper falling to the ground while the rest of the crew scattered into the night.<\/p>\n
For years, Mason believed a rival gang had betrayed them. That\u2019s what everyone was told. But deep down, something never felt right.<\/p>\n
Now the truth was standing right in front of him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou sold us out,\u201d Mason growled.<\/p>\n
Cole stepped closer under the dim light. \u201cI saved myself. There\u2019s a difference.\u201d<\/p>\n
The little girl slowly backed away, confused and frightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother said Harper hid something before he died,\u201d she whispered. \u201cSomething people would kill for.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mason looked at her sharply. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEmma.\u201d<\/p>\n
The moment she answered, Mason\u2019s expression changed completely.<\/p>\n
Harper once showed him a photo of a newborn daughter wrapped in a hospital blanket.<\/p>\n
Emma.<\/p>\n
Harper\u2019s daughter.<\/p>\n
Cole noticed it too. His calm expression vanished for the first time.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d he said coldly, reaching inside his coat, \u201cthat explains why she\u2019s still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Before Emma could react, Mason shoved her behind him.<\/p>\n
A gun appeared in Cole\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n
So did another in Mason\u2019s.<\/p>\n
The parking lot exploded with tension.<\/p>\n
Rain began falling softly onto the cracked concrete as the two men stared each other down, both haunted by the same bloody night.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should\u2019ve killed me when you had the chance,\u201d Mason said.<\/p>\n
Cole smiled darkly. \u201cI tried.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then the first shot shattered the silence.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The biker slowly removed his gloves, eyes fixed on the little girl like he was staring at a ghost. \u201cWho told you that name?\u201d he asked quietly. The girl tightened her grip on his sleeve. \u201cMy mom. Before she disappeared.\u201d A heavy silence settled over the gas station. Only the flickering neon sign buzzed above […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":2005,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2002","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-trending-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2002","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2002"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2002\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2005"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2002"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2002"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2002"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}