“I don't give a damn what she wants. She's my kid.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Lily? Is he your dad?”
“He’s Darren,” she sobbed, clutching my belt loop. “He’s not my daddy. Please don't let him take me.”
Darren’s face flushed dark red. He lunged forward, trying to reach around me, but my brother, Bear, stood up, blocking him from the side. Darren realized he was outnumbered, but instead of retreating, he smirked and pulled out his phone.
“Fine. You want to play it this way? I’m calling the cops. We’ll see how a bunch of gang members do explaining why they’re kidnapping a little girl.”
The diner owner, a nervous older guy named Sal, panicked. “No trouble in here, Mason! Please, I called Sheriff Miller already when the yelling started.”
Sure enough, less than two minutes later, cruiser lights flashed through the rain-streaked windows. Sheriff Miller walked in, one hand resting on his duty belt. He took one look at our leather cuts and sighed. “What’s the problem here, Wolf?”