3: The Truth, or a version of it

Mickey's Diner was on the edge of town. It was the kind of place people went to be alone. The neon sign flashed. It went from "Open" to "Op n." Pink light hit the broken-up parking lot.

Amelia parked her car between a rusty truck and Deacon's Harley bike. Her hands shook a little on the wheel. She had changed her clothes three times. She finally wore jeans and a sweater. It was casual enough but also looked professional. It was her way of remembering why she was here.

A bell above the door rang when she walked in. The smell of grease and old coffee hit her. The place was mostly empty. An old man was reading a paper. The waitress looked like she had seen everything bad in the world.

Deacon sat in a back booth. He was as far from other people as he could get. He had on a black hoodie instead of his vest. But he still looked dangerous. Like a wild animal waiting to move.

"You came," he said when she sat down across from him.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

He looked at her face in the low light. "I wasn't sure. Most people would have gone away by now."

"I'm not most people."

"No," he said quietly, "you're not."

The waitress came to their table. She already had the coffee pot. "What'll you have, honey?"

"Just coffee," Amelia said.

"Same," Deacon added. "And we need some privacy, Michelle."

The old woman nodded. She walked away. They were alone in their corner.

Amelia held her coffee mug. She used the warmth to stop her hands from shaking.

 "So. Talk."

Deacon was quiet for a long time. She wondered if he changed his mind. She could see him thinking. He was trying to figure out what to tell her. He was already breaking club rules by being here. But Lily needed help he couldn't give.

When he finally spoke, his words were slow and careful. It was like he was choosing them one by one.

"Lily's mom..." He stopped. He held his coffee mug tighter. "She got caught in a fight. Some stupid stuff between gangs."

Amelia leaned forward. "That explains the nightmares. The way she jumps at loud noises."

Her words seemed to make him feel a little safer. "Some guy from the Cobras MC club killed her. And he's still alive." His voice was full of anger he was trying to hide. "My kid saw enough of it to mess her up for life."

The words hit Amelia hard. She knew it was something bad. But hearing it was so much worse. Her chest felt tight. She felt sad for Deacon and Lily. "Lily saw it happen?"

"Enough of it." Deacon’s hands curled into fists on his mug. "She has been having nightmares ever since. Jumps at loud sounds. Can't sleep alone most nights. I tried everything, but..."

"But you're not a trained therapist," Amelia finished for him. "And you can't just be tough to get through something like this."

He looked up at her. The pain in his dark eyes was huge. "You think I don't know that? You think I haven't read every damn thing online about kids and bad things? But getting a doctor means questions. Paperwork. People looking into our lives."

"And you can't have that."

It wasn't a question. Amelia was starting to get it. He was a man trying to protect his daughter. But trying to get help could bring more danger than doing nothing.

"The Cobras have been quiet for a while," Deacon went on. His voice got lower. "But lately, they've been starting things again. Testing us. And if they think Lily saw something that night, if they think she can say who the shooter was..."

He didn't need to finish. Amelia knew what he meant.

"The patch," she said. "How did she get it?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone left it to send a message. Or it was dropped when they were in our area. The point is, if she has it, it means she's thinking about them. Thinking about that night."

Amelia listened. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together. She was scared. Really scared. But she also felt a little bit better. Now she knew what they were dealing with. "We can start with drawing things at school," she said. She took out her notebook. "Art to help her show what she can't say. And maybe a safe spot... somewhere she can go when she gets scared."

"You really think that will work?"

"It's a start. Kids get through bad things differently than grown-ups. Sometimes they have to show it before they can get better."

Deacon nodded slowly. He was listening to everything she said.

"Without anyone else knowing?"

"Without anyone else knowing," she said. "But Deacon, this is bigger than just me. She will need real professional help one day."

She used his first name. He looked up at her fast. Amelia felt her face get hot. But she didn't take it back.

"We will worry about that later," he said.

"Okay." She took out a small notebook and started writing. "I need to know what scares her. What things start her panic attacks. And I need you to tell me if things get worse at home."

"You really think you can help her?"

The way he asked was so sad. He wasn't the scary biker anymore. He was just a dad who had no other ideas.

"I think we can help her," Amelia said carefully. "Together."

Something changed in his face. "There ain't no 'we' here, teacher."

"Amelia," she said. She said her name without thinking. "And yes, there is. Like it or not, we're in this together now."

They looked at each other across the old table. Amelia felt that same energy she felt at the school. The air between them was full of things they didn't want to admit.

"This is not forever," Deacon said. "Just until Lily's better."

"Of course."

"And you stay away from my club's business. You don't ask about what I do or who I know."

"I get it."

"And if things get dangerous, if the Cobras do something else, you back off. No talking back."

Amelia stopped. "If Lily's in danger..."

"I'll handle it." His words were sharp and final. "That's not your job."

"Fine." But even as she said it, Amelia knew she was lying. If that little girl needed her, she was not going anywhere.

Deacon seemed to know she was lying. His eyes got small. "I mean it Amelia. You don't want any part of what's coming if this gets bad."

The way he said her name, low and strong, made her feel weird in her stomach. "Okay."

They were quiet for a moment. Their deal sat between them. Finally, Deacon put some money on the table and stood up.

"I'll walk you to your car."

Outside, the night air was cool. Their steps made a sound on the empty parking lot. Amelia was very aware of him next to her. The way he walked like an animal. The way he kept looking around for problems.

"Thank you," she said when they got to her car. "For trusting me with this."

"Don't thank me yet. You might be sorry you got involved."

"I don't think I will."

He looked at her face in the pink light. "You're not what I thought you'd be."

"What did you think?"

"Someone who would run the first time things got hard." He reached out like he was going to touch her face. Then he stopped himself. He put his hand down. "You should run, Amelia. It would be smart to get in your car and forget you ever met us."

"Then it's a good thing I've never been smart with money."

The corner of his mouth moved. It was almost a smile. "Lily's lucky to have you."

Before she could say anything, he walked away. His boots made a sound on the ground. Amelia watched him get on his motorcycle. She watched his back light disappear into the dark. Her heart was racing.

She was in way over her head. But as she drove home, all she could think about was a little girl who drew pictures of people hiding. And a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Tomorrow, she would start helping Lily get better. And if that meant working with the most dangerous man she has ever met, well...

She had faced bigger problems than Deacon Miller.

At least, she hoped she had.