The judge asked why a biker was hugging the boy who killed his daughter. I stood there in that courtroom in my leather vest with my arms wrapped around a sixteen-year-old kid in an orange jumpsuit while everyone stared at us like we’d lost our minds.
The kid was sobbing into my chest. The judge was confused. The prosecutor was furious. And my wife was in the back row crying.
I didn’t let go of the boy. Just held him tighter while he shook against me. “Your Honor, I’d like to make a statement before you pass sentence.”
The judge nodded. “Please proceed.”Continue reading…