Chapter 1: The Diner Standoff
I am Mason Callahan, but everyone on the road just calls me Wolf.
The terrified little girl bolted through the diner doors, bee-lined straight for my table, and gripped the heavy leather of my cut with trembling, dirt-stained fingers. I was mid-bite of my burger, surrounded by eight of my toughest brothers from the MC, when she looked up at me with wide, panicked eyes.
“You have to leave,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They’re coming.”
I slowly set my food down on the faded Formica table. The diner, usually buzzing with the clatter of silverware and loud trucker conversations, went dead quiet. My brothers shifted in their seats, their heavy work boots scraping the floor, eyes scanning the windows.
The girl couldn't have been older than nine. Her bright yellow shirt was torn at the hem, her cheap canvas sneakers were soaked through with puddle water, and she kept throwing terrified glances over her shoulder at the glass entrance.
“Why?” I asked, keeping my voice as gentle as a man my size could manage. “Who’s coming, sweetheart?”