I never imagined a normal trip to Walmart would turn into one of the most unforgettable moments of my life. At sixty-three, with tattoos, old scars, and decades of rough roads behind me, I thought I’d seen everything. But nothing prepared me for the moment a terrified six-year-old girl ran into the cereal aisle, grabbed my vest, and begged me to pretend to be her dad. Her voice shook, her eyes wide with fear — and before I could respond, a man came storming down the aisle, red-faced and frantic.
The little girl, whose name was Addison, clung to me as if I were her last safe place. In small, shaky pieces, she told me something was very wrong at home. Her mother needed help, and the man coming toward us was no longer acting like someone she could trust. I stepped between them, and in one silent moment, he realized he’d have to get past a full-grown biker before he touched that child again.
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