Chapter 6 - THE DAWN OF A NEW LIFEThirty minutes later, the wailing sirens of unmarked federal vehicles and a county medical van cut through the rainy night air, painting the industrial park in flashing crimson and blue lights.
Two federal agents in tactical vests stepped briskly into the garage, flanked by a female social worker carrying an emergency rescue kit. They didn't need to ask questions; the massive projection screen on the brick wall was still displaying the undeniable digital evidence of Richard’s crimes, and Richard himself was currently sitting handcuffed in the corner, staring blankly at the concrete while Goliath kept a watchful, unblinking eye on him from three feet away.
The social worker, a kind-looking woman named Sarah, walked cautiously toward the battered leather couch where little Mia was curled up.
Mia woke up slowly, blinking heavy sleep from her eyes. She looked around the crowded garage, seeing the flashing lights outside, the federal agents, and then down at her small puppy, which was resting comfortably inside a warm, padded veterinary basket that one of the biker mechanics had hastily scavenged and lined with clean flannel rags.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Sarah said softly, kneeling down beside the couch and offering a warm, reassuring smile. “My name is Sarah. You’re safe now, Mia. Nobody is ever going to hurt you or little Buster again.”
Mia looked up slowly. Her gaze drifted past the social worker and landed directly on Big Mike, who gave her a gentle, solemn nod. Then, she looked down at the floor.
Goliath was sitting right beside the couch. The massive, scarred pitbull slowly thumped his heavy tail twice against the concrete floor, offering one last, reassuring nudge of his warm nose against her small hand.
“Can... can Buster come with me?” Mia whispered, her lower lip trembling as tears welled up in her big, expressive eyes. “They gave him medicine for his leg. The biker doctor said he’s going to walk again.”
“Buster goes wherever you go, princess,” Big Mike answered, walking over and resting a massive, calloused hand gently on her shoulder. “And don't you worry about a single thing. This club has got your back. Always.”
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As federal agents hauled a weeping, handcuffed Richard Vance out into the rain toward a waiting cruiser, the flashing lights illuminated the entire garage in a brilliant sweep of red and blue.
Richard didn't look up. He didn't threaten anyone anymore. His empire of lies, built on greed and cruelty, had completely collapsed.
