Bear looked down at a personal, handwritten letter attached to the back of the legal file. It was addressed to him.
Bear, the letter read. If you're reading this, I’m gone, and so is my girl's mother. I kept Mia away from the club because I wanted her to have a quiet life. But I know men are greedy, and the world is cold. If she’s ever in trouble, she’s instructed to bring you my tag. Take care of my blood, brother. The house and the money belong to her.
Bear folded the letter carefully and placed it in his leather cut. He looked back at Carl, whose arrogant posture had completely collapsed into desperate panic.
"You’ve been illegally selling off the assets of a minor's trust," Bear stated, taking a slow step toward Carl. "You forged guardianship papers to drain the accounts, and you were planning to dump my brother’s daughter into the foster system tomorrow so you could skip town with the cash."
Carl looked around wildly. The bikers had slowly fanned out, forming a loose, imposing semicircle that blocked his path to the street. He was trapped.
Panic overtook reason. Carl spun around, grabbing a heavy steel crowbar that was sitting on one of the folding tables. He gripped it with both hands, holding it up like a baseball bat, his eyes wild and desperate.
"Stay back!" Carl screamed, his voice breaking. "I have rights! You’re a gang! You’re a bunch of criminal thugs trying to kidnap a child, and no judge is going to believe a word you say!"
Bear didn't flinch. None of the Iron Hounds moved. They just stared at him with cold, terrifying indifference. Bear reached out and gently pushed Mia behind his broad leg to keep her completely shielded.
"I told you to call the cops, Carl," Bear said softly.
At that exact moment, the screech of tires echoed down the block. Three county sheriff’s cruisers came tearing around the corner of the cul-de-sac, their blue and red lights flashing aggressively. They slammed on their brakes behind the line of motorcycles, and deputies began piling out.
"Help! Help me!" Carl screamed, dropping the crowbar and raising his hands toward the police. "They're trespassing! They're assaulting me and trying to steal my daughter!"
The lead officer, Sheriff Davis, an older man with gray temples and a star pinned to his uniform chest, walked briskly up the driveway. He bypassed the screaming Carl entirely and stopped right in front of Bear.
Davis looked at the massive biker, then looked at the little girl peeking out from behind his leg.