Walt. My dad.
Mom’s eyes filled up. “Frankie. You carried the flowers at his funeral.”
“Yes ma’am, I did.” He held his helmet against his chest like a man in church. “And Walt carried me through a divorce, a bankruptcy, and a heart attack. So when Tommy’s grandson showed us that video, we had a meeting. Whole club. Plus two other clubs we ride with.”
I finally found my voice. “What video?”
Frank looked at me, and his jaw got tight. “The one those boys posted. Private page, but nothing’s private anymore. They were bragging about it. Called it a prank.”
He pulled out his phone, then stopped himself. “Your mother doesn’t need to see it again. She lived it.”
“How’d you find them from a video?”
“Tommy’s grandson recognized one of them. Kid named Brendan. Works at Denny’s garage. Denny pulled his employment file an hour later. From there it took us one evening to get all three names. Young men aren’t careful online.”
Mom spoke up, and her voice was small in a way I hated. “Frank, I don’t want anybody hurt. Not even them.”
And I’ll never forget what Frank said next.
