Biker Stopped To Help Girl With A Flat Tire But Caught Something In Car’s Trunk Which Terrified Him

That’s when I knew something was seriously wrong. “Okay,” I said carefully. “No police. But I’m not leaving you here alone either. So let’s just change this tire and get you somewhere safe. Deal?”

She hesitated, still holding that tire iron. Then she looked at my vest—at the American flag patch, the Firefighters MC rocker, the veteran patches. Something in her face changed. “You’re really a firefighter?”

“Twenty-seven years with Station 14. Retired three years ago.” I took a slow step closer. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Madison.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I’m Madison.”

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