A crying girl handed a biker three dollars and a letter, completely unaware she was giving her long-lost father his first look at her.

Tink-a-ling.

The small brass bell hanging above the front door of the bakery chimed brightly, breaking the quiet hum of the morning.

Emma made a sharp, terrified whimpering sound, her small body jumping in fear. She instantly darted behind Mason’s broad, shirtless back, wrapping her small arms tightly around his waist, burying her face into his spine as she hid beneath the oversized leather vest.

Stepping through the doorway into the bakery was Daniel. Late thirties, clean-cut, and unsettlingly calm, Daniel possessed the polished, immaculate appearance of a local law enforcement officer off duty. He had short, neatly styled brown hair, wore a pressed light-blue button-up shirt, dark tailored trousers, and polished dress shoes. Clipped visibly to the right side of his leather belt was a heavy, gleaming gold police detective badge alongside a holstered service weapon.

Daniel scanned the interior of the bakery with a cool, arrogant smile, his eyes bypassing the customers until they landed on the group of heavy bikers gathered near the oak table.

"Emma," Daniel called out, his voice unnervingly smooth, carrying a calm, patronizing authority that echoed off the bakery walls. "You’ve caused enough trouble for one morning, sweetheart. Come with me right now."

Every single biker in the room turned their head toward him. The atmosphere inside the bakery turned heavy enough to crush steel.

Mason slowly, deliberately rose to his full, towering height. His bare, muscular chest heaved with deep, controlled breaths as he stepped directly into the path between Daniel and the terrified little girl hiding behind his legs.

From behind Mason’s thigh, Emma whispered in a terrified, trembling voice, "That’s him... that’s my stepfather."