of the Mercedes’ headlights, when he caught up with her on his bike.
He’d held out his arms to her.
It was the last thing she’d expected him to do.
But he had done it.
And somehow, that moment—when his big, tattooed arms closed around her—that was the turning point. That was when she knew: in time, she was going to be all right.
The world had simple kindness in it after all. How strange that a big, scary biker guy like Jericho Bravo had ended up being the one to make her see that.
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