Darren immediately shifted his demeanor, playing the exhausted, concerned parent. “Sheriff, thank God. My stepdaughter ran off from the grocery store across the street. These bikers are refusing to let me take her home.”
“She says you aren't her father,” I shot back, keeping my stance solid.
Darren reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded, laminated paper, handing it directly to the sheriff. “I'm her legal guardian. Her mother signed the custody papers over to me last year. Here's the state seal to prove it.”
Miller looked at the paper, then looked at me, shaking his head. “It’s legit, Mason. Step aside.”
“Look at her, Miller!” I argued, my voice echoing in the diner. “She’s terrified. Her clothes are torn. You can't just hand her back to this piece of work without asking questions.”
“I said step aside, Wolf,” the sheriff warned, unclipping the retention strap on his holster. “Unless you want me arresting your whole table for custodial interference. You don't have the authority to play hero today.”
I felt the eyes of every customer, waitress, and brother burning into me. My fists clenched so tight my knuckles turned white. If I threw a punch, my brothers would jump in, and we’d all end up in cuffs while Darren walked away anyway. I was completely cornered by the law, publicly humiliated by a man I knew in my gut was a monster.