BroRin BroVit

My dying son asked the scary biker in the hospital waiting room to hold him instead of me. I\'m his mother. I\'ve held him through every fever, every nightmare, every pain for six years. I\'ll never forget that moment as long as I live. We\'d been at Children\'s Hospital for eleven hours that day. Liam was seven years old and had been fighting leukemia for two years. We\'d done everything. Chemo. Radiation. Experimental treatments. Prayers. Bargaining with God. Nothing worked…

I Arrested This Biker So Brutally I Broke His Ribs But Later He Became My Daughter's Best Friend

I slammed the biker's face into the hood of my cruiser hard enough to dent the metal. My knee was in his back, my full 220 pounds crushing him against the hot steel while I wrenched his arms behind him.

I heard something crack—maybe his ribs, maybe something in his shoulder—and I didn't care.