Chapter 9 - THE PACT ON ELM STREET
Cole reached up with his left hand, carefully placing the yellow paper flower back into the interior pocket of his leather vest, right over his heart, buttoning the small metal snap shut with a clear, sharp click.
He looked into Lily’s brown eyes. "I kept your flower safe, Lily. And now, I'm going to make sure you and your mom are safe, too."
Cole stood up to his full height, turning to face Rachel.
Rachel was standing near the edge of the porch steps, her hands trembling, looking at the massive biker with a mixture of awe, relief, and profound gratitude. The heavy wall of isolation and debt that had been crushing her home for months had been broken open in less than twenty minutes by a man who owed his very survival to her late husband.
Cole picked up the heavy glass mason jar from the table. The money inside was packed so tight that green bills pressed flat against the glass surface, covering the bold black word FAMILY he had written earlier.
Cole walked three steps across the grass and extended both hands, placing the glass jar directly into Rachel’s hands.
“This pays for the lemonade,” Cole said softly. “And tomorrow morning, my club’s legal and medical liaison will be sitting right here on your porch. Every medical bill, every prescription, every overdue notice in that house... gets wiped clean.”
Rachel looked down at the heavy jar in her hands, then looked up into Cole’s face. “Cole... we can’t ever repay you for this...”
“You don't owe me a dime, ma'am,” Cole said, shaking his head firmly. “David paid this tab five years ago.”
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Cole turned back toward the street. He looked at the eleven bikers standing beside their machines.
“Riders!” Cole called out, his voice booming across the quiet suburban neighborhood with absolute authority. “Mount up!”
