Off The Record
Bikers Blocked My Daughter’s Wedding Doors—Then I Learned The Shocking Reason Why
At my daughter’s wedding, forty-two motorcycle riders showed up without an invitation and blocked the church doors, preventing everyone from entering. I told them they were ruining the most significant day of her life, yelled at them to move, and threatened to call the police.
“Ma’am, we can’t let this wedding happen,” the lead biker, a huge man with scars all over his arms, stated as he stood there staring at me through tears. Your daughter is unaware of her true spouse.
I informed him that David was a well-respected attorney from a decent family and that he had no right to meddle, and that he was crazy.
My blood ran cold when he produced a folder with pictures and medical data, and I realized that these frightful bikers might be the only thing separating my daughter from a monster.
Twenty minutes was the estimated start time for the wedding. This wall of leather and denim refused to move as two hundred visitors attempted to enter St. Mary’s Cathedral.
“What’s going on, Mom?” My daughter, Sarah, showed up next to me in her white dress, looking gorgeous and perplexed. “Why are they not moving?” “It’s nothing, my love. Just a few insane individuals. Return inside; I’ll take care of this.”
The lead biker, however, addressed her directly. “My name is Marcus Webb, Sarah. David Patterson and my sister Rachel were engaged three years ago. Two weeks prior to their wedding, she passed away.”
Sarah’s cheeks turned pale. David informed me that his fiancée passed away in a vehicle accident. Although that was tragic—
Marcus broke his voice as he stated, “It wasn’t a car accident.”
After six months of David’s torment, my sister threw herself from a bridge. She left a message. She left behind evidence. She abandoned everything. However, David’s family is wealthy and well-connected, and the lawsuit was dropped.
I stepped between them and firmly remarked, “That’s a lie.” “David is a decent guy. He would never—”
Another motorcyclist stepped forward with a phone and interrupted, saying, “Mom.” This is the suicide note written by Rachel Webb. Go through it.
Ready to disprove them, I grabbed the phone. However, my hands trembled at the words on the screen:
“I can no longer do this. In private, David is a monster. I can conceal the bruises, but I cannot conceal who he has turned into. He said that if I left, he would murder me. claimed that his family would ensure that I was not believed. He was correct. I filed two reports against him. The reports vanished both times. Marcus, I’m so sorry. Express your love for Mom. I tried, tell them all. However, I can’t wed him. I can’t live in constant fear. My only option is to do this.”
I muttered, “This could be fake,” but my voice lacked conviction.
Marcus took the packet out. There were medical documents within. pictures of fractured ribs, black eyes, and bruises. Filed police reports that were inexplicably closed. In texts, David branded Rachel useless, threatened her, and claimed she would regret trying to leave him.
Another biker whispered, “Show her the video.”
Marcus paused. “You don’t want to see—,” I said.
“Prove me,” Sarah insisted. She had been reading over my shoulder and had moved closer.
He opened his phone and played a video. A parking garage’s security footage. We observed David and Rachel fighting. I saw him take her arm, smack her across the face, and slam her against a car. He stood over her and screamed as he watched her fall to the ground.
Three weeks before to her passing, the date stamp was issued.
“Switch it off,” I muttered. “Please switch it off.”
Still wearing her wedding gown, Sarah sat motionless, gazing at the phone as if it were about to bite her. “David would never… He has never even spoken loudly to me.”
“Rachel also said that,” Marcus said. “For the initial year. He was flawless. romantic. Paying attention. Then everything changed when they became engaged. He began excluding her from his social circle. regulating her attire. She looked at her phone. It happened slowly. She was stuck by the time she recognized what was going on.”
Sarah’s voice was trembling as she said, “I need to talk to David.”
I firmly answered, “No,” as my mother’s instincts instantly screamed. “You won’t approach him.”
Marcus whispered softly, “Mrs. Chen, we didn’t want to do this. frightening everyone by interrupting a wedding. However, we were unable to allow another woman to wed him. Rachel’s passing couldn’t be ignored.”
“Why now?” I insisted. “How about calling the police? Why not—”
Another motorcyclist remarked, “We tried everything.” He had gentle eyes, a gray beard, and was older. “I’m Tom, Rachel’s uncle. In the last three years, we have visited the police seventeen times. All of the reports were buried. The father of David is a judge. The district attorney is his uncle. He is protected by the system.”
“You chose to scare my daughter on her wedding day, then?”
Marcus stated plainly, “We made the decision to save her life.” Since Rachel passed away, we have been keeping an eye on David. We looked into it after learning that he was engaged once more. discovered that he had previously done this. He had other victims besides Rachel.
He took away further files. Two more females. Inexplicably, the restraining orders against David were withdrawn for both. They both had medical records. To avoid him, one had relocated across the nation.
Tom clarified, “We found them.” “Asked them to testify and assist us in stopping him.” They were both too afraid. They were threatened, bought off, and forced to leave by his family.
Sarah had been quite silent. “Remember last month when I fell down the stairs, Mom?”
My blood turned to ice. “What?”
David and I were having a fight. regarding my work. Because the promotion would require more hours, he didn’t want me to accept it. I assumed he was merely jealous. However, I informed him that I was taking it anyhow. She put her hand on her sprained wrist. He took hold of me. I withdrew and collapsed. However, he took hold of me. Hard.
“What kept you from telling me?” I muttered.
“Because he expressed regret.” purchased flowers for me. claimed that the wedding was the only source of his stress. declared that it will never occur again.
The bikers looked at each other knowingly. This story was not new to them.
Marcus lowered himself to Sarah’s eye level. The same thing was said by my sister. Following the first, second, and tenth times. He was always sorry. had a reason for everything. always gave her the impression that she was at fault.
Then David emerged, squeezing through the throng of bewildered people. “What on earth is happening? Why aren’t you inside, Sarah?”
His tone was piercing. Furious. For the first time, I heard the edge beneath his typical charm.
“David,” Sarah replied cautiously, “they say you were previously engaged.” A woman by the name of Rachel Webb.
Carefully, his face went blank. “That’s from long ago. She lacked stability. What happened to her was tragic.”
Marcus stood to his full height and spoke the words, “You are the reason she killed herself.” since you defeated her. kept her under control. destroyed her.
David yelled, “That is slander.” “You’ll be arrested—”
“With what proof?” Tom posed a challenge. “The police reports that consistently vanish? The medical documents that are “lost”? Your family has a talent for making things disappear. However, they are unable to force us to leave.”
David lost his mask. I just caught a glimpse of anger in his eyes. Anger, cold and pure. Then it vanished, to be replaced by confused hurt.
You can’t believe these criminals, Sarah. Take a look. Most likely, they are attempting to extort money. This is—
“Give her your arm,” Marcus said.
David froze. “What?”
“Your forearm on the right. Present the scar to her.”
“I have nothing to show anyone—”
“That scar was given to you by Rachel,” Marcus persisted adamantly. “Retaliating for the last time you struck her.” Your arm was so deeply clawed by her that twelve stitches were required. It can be found in the ER notes from the two weeks prior to her passing.
Sarah gave David a look. “Give me your arm.”
“This is absurd—”
“David, show me your arm.”
He reluctantly and slowly pushed up his sleeve. It was there. The scar on his right forearm was lengthy and jagged.
David stumbled, “I got this from… from a biking accident.”
“You don’t ride a bike,” Sarah muttered.
There was silence in the crowd. This altercation is being witnessed by two hundred wedding guests.
David’s dad shoved his way through the throng. “This is harassment.” Right now, I’m going to phone the police—
“Do it, please,” Marcus answered coolly. “We would want to present them with all of our proof. When you want to bury another case, it’s great to have the media present. Because you’re going to do that, aren’t you? Make this disappear, just as you did with Rachel’s case.”
The face of Judge Patterson flushed. “You don’t have any evidence—”
Seventeen police reports are in our possession. Three distinct women’s medical records. CCTV footage. text messages. The suicide note written by Rachel. And—
“—we’ve already sent copies to every major news outlet in the state,” Marcus said, taking out his phone. It is obvious to everyone what sort of family you are if this wedding is called off tonight or tomorrow morning.
The audience burst out. Visitors were chatting, taking out their phones, and glancing between David and the motorcyclists. In real time, the meticulously crafted façade of the ideal lawyer from the ideal family was disintegrating.
When David’s mother showed up, she looked terrified. “You know David loves you, Sarah, my dear. These folks are simply—”
David interrupted her, “Mom,” in a tone of coldness I had never heard before. “Not assisting.”
That voice. That voice. Sarah winced.
Sarah retreated from David, saying, “I need to think.” “I require… I need a moment.”
She recoiled once more when David grabbed for her and said, “Sarah.”
I could tell everything from that flinch.
“Avoid touching her,” I stated to myself. “You have no right to touch my daughter.”
David’s mask fell off entirely. “You are to blame for this,” he growled at Marcus. “As if you were to blame for Rachel’s weakness—”
He left the sentence hanging. David was sent reeling when Marcus’s fist struck his jaw.
Marcus added softly, “That’s for my sister.”
As David’s relatives hurried to help him up, the motorcyclists around Sarah and me in a protective circle. Someone had phoned the police, and their sirens were coming closer.
“Regardless of the charges, we’ll accept them,” Tom declared. “Assault, trespassing, whatever.” Stopping this is worthwhile.
Sarah’s flawless wedding makeup was ruined, her mascara streaming, and she was crying. She asked no one in particular, “Was any of it real?” “Has he ever truly been who I believed him to be?”
“The start was genuine,” Marcus remarked softly. They get you that way. Rachel agreed. The first year was ideal. It was true. But the monster beneath it is, too.
The police showed up. Marcus’s group had ensured that the news vehicles did the same. By the time the cops separated everyone, reporters were asking questions, cameras were rolling, and the Patterson family’s long-kept secrets were coming to light.
David and Sarah never got married. While she recovered from what we subsequently realized was the early stages of the same abuse that had murdered Rachel, she spent six months at home.
Marcus was accused of violence and the bikers of trespassing. However, the charges were subsequently dismissed due to the case’s prominence, the evidence they had presented, and the other victims who came forward after realizing they weren’t alone.
David’s law license was revoked. For falsifying police records, his father was the subject of an investigation. The family’s standing was ruined.
Additionally, Rachel Webb’s case was at last thoroughly looked into.
Sarah served as the maid of honor at Marcus’s wedding two years later. She now considered the man who had interrupted her wedding to be a brother. I was now related to the motorcyclists who had frightened me that day.
One evening, Sarah informed me, “I would have married him.” “I would have married him if they hadn’t called off the wedding. And I would have become Rachel in a year or two. Otherwise, I would have been just another suicide victim.”
She keeps the wedding gown in her closet that she never wore. As a reminder that sometimes the most frightening people are the ones attempting to help you, she preserves it. And occasionally the true monster is the man wearing the pricey suit.
During his own wedding, Marcus made a tearful toast to Rachel. someone I was unable to save. However, who taught me to always be there for the people I can?
The wedding of my daughter was ruined by forty-two motorcycle riders. They ruined what should have been the most joyous day by frightening visitors, attacking the groom, and causing mayhem.
They also prevented my daughter’s death.
Love occasionally rides a Harley and dons leather. It can occasionally ruin your wedding and prevent you from making the greatest error of your life. And sometimes a group of bikers who won’t let another Rachel die are the only thing between you and a monster.
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