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And every year, on the anniversary of his father’s death, Ryan rides out to the cemetery. Parks his cruiser. Sits by the headstone.
They don’t talk much. Don’t need to.
They just sit with Jack Decker. The man who saved fifty lives and asked for nothing. The cop who chose integrity when it would have been so much easier to look away.
“I’m wearing it right, Dad. I promise.”
And fifty men on motorcycles will tell you he is.