Arthur reached into his satchel.
“I did, too. By signing that paper, I helped them.”
The biker released him.
His name was Jaxon Reynolds.
He had spent most of his adult life carrying anger toward the world.
Now the man connected to the worst night of his childhood sat across from him.
Arthur opened a small velvet box.
Inside was a blackened silver medal.
“I found this with your father.”
Jaxon touched the medal.
His expression changed.
He reached beneath his shirt and pulled out another medal.
A matching one.
“My father gave me this when I was born.”
Arthur nodded.
“He told me once that if he ever lost his way, he would follow that medal home.”
Jaxon stared at the damaged piece.
For the first time, his eyes filled with tears.
The diner door opened.
Three other bikers entered.
Silas, the club’s enforcer, immediately noticed Jaxon sitting with the old man.
He approached.
“Everything all right?”
His eyes settled on Arthur.
Brick, standing behind him, cracked his knuckles.
Jaxon closed his hand around the medal.
“Stand down.”
Silas frowned.
“Jax—”
“I said stand down.”
The room froze.
Silas studied his friend, then nodded.
“Ten minutes.”
The bikers walked outside.
Arthur looked terrified.
“Why did you stop them?”
Jaxon leaned back.
“My father saved your life.”
Arthur lowered his eyes.
“I don't deserve it.”
“That isn't the point.”
Jaxon placed the medal on the table.
“If he died saving you, then I won't dishonor him by killing you.”
Arthur began to cry.
“But I still owe you the truth.”
He reached into the satchel again.
This time he removed a thick envelope.