“Why did he do it?” Emily asked. Her hands shook as she hit the lever to pour some hot water into a coffee cup. She plopped a tea sachet into the cup and waited. “What in his life was so much that he wanted to be a biker? What was so horrible, so terrible, that he put on a jacket with patches and broke the law? What the hell did he have to prove?”
“Have you ever been on a bike?” His voice was low, even. “Do you know what it means?”
“Means? It means my dad wanted to break the law more than he wanted to raise me, more than he wanted my mother. More than he wanted anything else.”
“I don’t know if I can explain.”
She knitted her brows. Turning off the water and adding sugar to the steadily browning hot water. “Try.”
He shook his head and took a long drag off the cigarette. The tip turned
