Because deep down, I knew he was right.
Jimmy wasn’t just another biker — he was family. And family didn’t give up.
I stared at the Harley, at every scar and dent that told stories of freedom, brotherhood, and a love I never dared to say out loud.
Emma’s fight was the hardest road I’d ever ridden, but maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a journey I had to take alone.
The phone buzzed again. This time it was a text from Jimmy: “Meet me at the clubhouse. We’ll figure this out — together.”
Some things are worth more than money.
Some battles are fought side by side.
And maybe, just maybe, my Harley wasn’t the last thing I’d have to hold onto after all.
