"Wouldn't dream of it, Sarge," Jax grinned. "We just don't like trash in our park."
As the crowd dispersed and the SUV was towed away, Jax turned to Leo. He saw the boy looking at his bench, the only home he had. Jax's expression softened. "Leo," Jax said, "that bench is retired. You're coming with us. We've got a clubhouse that needs a set of eyes like yours, and we've got a spare room that's a hell of a lot warmer than a park bench."
Leo looked at the line of motorcycles. Then back at the playground where the kids were safely playing again. He realized that for the first time in his life, he wasn't a ghost. He was a protector.
But the story wasn't over. The man in the SUV wasn't working alone. He was part of a much larger, much more dangerous ring that had been operating in the city for years. And now that Leo and the Hells Angels had interfered with their business, they were coming for the boy. The predators were about to find out that when you hunt a member of the Hells Angels family, you become the hunted.
The aftermath of the arrest at Miller Park sent shock waves through the city's social fabric. While the local news hailed the mystery tipster and the vigilante bikers who saved the children, a much darker force was watching the footage with cold, calculating fury. The man in the SUV had been more than a predator. He was a scout for a high-level trafficking syndicate, a ghost organization that prided itself on being invisible within the city's noise.
By spotting that black Suburban, Leo hadn't just saved a few children. He had compromised a multi-million-dollar operation scheduled for that weekend. The organization didn't believe in loose ends, and they certainly didn't believe in being humiliated by a homeless teenager and a motorcycle club.