“How far did you run, sweetheart?” the officer asked gently.
“I don’t know. A long time. My feet hurt and I was scared but Mommy said don’t stop. She said the skull angels would protect me like they protected her.”
“You thought a little girl running to bikers meant danger,” Tank said without judgment. “Most people would. That’s why it works. Abusers don’t expect their victims to run TO the scary-looking guys with skulls on their vests.”
The manager had come outside, looking sheepish. “I apologize. I had no idea you were… what did you call it?”
“Guardians of the Children,” another biker explained.
“We’re a nonprofit. We help abused children. Stand with them in court, escort them to school if they’re scared, make sure they know they’re not alone. Some of us are abuse survivors ourselves.”
The older officer was gentle as he approached Emma. “We need to take you to the hospital, sweetheart. Have the doctors check you out, and you can see your mom.”
Emma’s grip on Tank tightened. “Can the angels come too?”
“We’ll follow right behind,” Tank promised. “We’ll stay with you as long as you need us. That’s what Guardians do.”Continue reading…
