The cruiser’s lights flashed. The brakes squealed, and the officer stepped out, hand resting heavily on his service weapon. He took one look at the screaming man in the expensive clothes, the crying woman on the ground, and the towering, heavily patched biker standing over them with clenched fists.
Society always made the same assumptions.
“Back away from them! Hands on the bike, right now!” the officer barked, pointing directly at Everett.
Everett’s chest heaved. He looked at the mother, who was desperately avoiding eye contact as she pulled her trembling daughter into her arms. If Everett fought back now, he’d be in handcuffs, and this man would drive away free. Gritting his teeth, swallowing the bitter taste of humiliation, Everett slowly raised his hands and placed them flat against the warm leather seat of his Harley.
Richard straightened his collar, flashing a smug, arrogant grin at Everett. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered under his breath. He grabbed his wife by the arm, roughly hauling her to her feet, and pushed her and the little girl back toward the luxury SUV.
“Just a misunderstanding, officer!” Richard called out, waving politely. “We’re leaving now!”