“Because of my sister,” the boy said, his voice cracking. “She’s under one of them. Under the motorcycles. She’s trapped.”
The world seemed to tilt sideways. Marcus felt his chest tighten, a surge of adrenaline washing away the post-meal drowsiness. He looked at the row of bikes, then back at the boy, searching for any sign of deception or confusion. He found only raw, terrified honesty.
“Which one?” Marcus demanded, his voice sharp enough to make the boy flinch.
The child pointed with a shaking hand toward the middle of the row, at Rick’s bike, a massive Road King with custom exhaust pipes and a leather seat that sat low to the ground. Marcus moved fast, covering the distance in three long strides. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the bite of gravel through his jeans, and peered under Rick’s motorcycle.
At first, he saw nothing but shadows and the gleam of chrome. Then his eyes adjusted and his breath caught in his throat. A little girl, maybe five years old, lay curled in the narrow space between the kickstand and the rear tire. Her eyes were closed, her small chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. She wore a pink dress covered in dirt, and one of her arms was twisted at an angle that made Marcus’s stomach clench.
How long had she been there? How had none of them noticed?
“Holy—” Rick’s voice came from behind him, thick with shock.
“Nobody move,” Marcus ordered, his mind racing through possibilities and dangers. “Nobody touches anything. Tyler, call 911. Danny, get me a blanket from one of the saddlebags. Rick, you stay right there and don’t even think about touching that bike.”
He turned back to the boy, who had dropped to his knees beside Marcus, his face pressed close to the ground as he tried to see his sister.
“What’s your name, son?” Marcus asked gently, though his heart hammered against his ribs.
“Ethan,” the boy whispered. “Ethan Cole. That’s my sister, Lily. She fell asleep there. I was supposed to be watching her, but I went inside to use the bathroom, and when I came back out, she was gone. I found her under there, and then I saw you guys coming out, and I was so scared you’d start the engines and—”
His words dissolved into sobs. Marcus placed a large, calloused hand on the boy’s thin shoulder, feeling the tremors running through the small frame.
“You did good, Ethan,” Marcus said, meaning every word. “You did real good. You might have just saved your sister’s life.”