Biker Was Crying Over A Thing In That Blue Towel And I Had To Pull Over To See What Broke This Tough Man

I surprised myself. “My car’s faster than your bike. Let me drive you.”

He stared at me for a moment, like he wasn’t sure I was real. Then he nodded. “Thank you. God, thank you.”

We ran to my car. He slid into the back seat, still cradling the puppy. I drove faster than I ever have, checking the mirror constantly.

He bent over her, stroking her head with one massive, tattooed finger. “Stay with me, baby girl,” he whispered. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

She whimpered—a weak, heartbreaking sound. He made a noise I’d never heard from a grown man, somewhere between a sob and a prayer. “I got you,” he said. “You’re safe now. Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you again.”

I ran a red light. I didn’t care.

“What’s your name?” I asked, needing to break the silence.

“Nomad,” he said. “Real name’s Robert. Been riding thirty-eight years. Never passed an animal in need. Can’t do it.”

“I’m Chris,” I said. “And I’m sorry I almost didn’t stop.”

He met my eyes in the mirror. “You stopped. That’s what matters. You’re a good man, Chris.”Continue reading…