Little Boy Begged Bikers To Arrest Him | Watch What Bikers Did

Little boy walked up to 15 bikers and begged them to arrest him immediately. The Devil’s Disciples Motorcycle Club was eating dinner when this skinny, bruised child appeared at their table. “Please arrest me right now,” the boy pleaded. “I’m a criminal.” Everyone was shocked. Big Tom, the club president, said, “What’s your name, son?” “Marcus,” the boy whispered.

“Marcus, why do you want to be arrested?” because I stole something really bad and criminals go to jail. The boy pulled out a half-melted candy bar from his pocket. Every biker at that table knew something was terribly wrong here. When did you last eat? Marcus, big Tom asked. The boy started counting on his fingers.

 Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, 4 days. 4 days? Razer growled. Why haven’t you eaten in 4 days? Marcus looked at the floor. Can’t say. Why not? Big Tom pressed gently. Because if I tell you, you might feed me and then I can’t go to jail where they give you three meals every day. The terrible truth hit them like a sledgehammer.

 This child wanted to be arrested because jail was the only place he knew he could eat. Where are your parents? Big Tom asked. Tears filled Marcus’s eyes. My dad died in Afghanistan when I was five. The bikers exchanged dark looks. A gold star child, son of a fallen soldier. What about your mom? Razer asked carefully.

 She married Derek, Marcus said, his voice breaking. He doesn’t like me very much. Big Tom noticed the bruises weren’t from playing. They were from fists. Adult fists. Did Derek do this to you? Big Tom pointed at the boy’s black eye. Marcus went silent. That was answer enough. Where is Derek now? Razer asked, his knuckles cracking. Home with mom. Marcus whispered.

 He said if I came back, he’d hurt me worse. Every biker at that table was ready for violence. A stepfather beating a veteran son was unforgivable. “How long have you been on the streets?” Big Tom asked. “2 days,” Marcus admitted. “I slept behind the gas station dumpster.” Big Tom made a decision that would change everything.

“Okay, Marcus, we’ll arrest you, but first we need to follow proper procedure.” “What procedure?” Marcus asked hopefully. Every criminal gets a last meal before jail. Big Tom lied. It’s the law. He turned to the waitress. Bring this dangerous criminal the biggest cheeseburger you have. Fries, milkshake, and pie.

If you believe bikers are good people, subscribe to this channel and show us your support. While Marcus devoured his food like a starving wolf, Big Tom made phone calls. Lots of them. Snake, I need information on a Derek who married a war widow with a son named Marcus. Within minutes, Snake had everything.

 Derek Thompson married Angela Williams 2 years ago. Her first husband was Sergeant Marcus Williams, killed in action in Kandahar. Address: 4827 Oak Street about 10 minutes from here. Criminal record: Two arrests for domestic violence with his ex-wife. Charges dropped both times. Big Tom’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt.

 This scumbag had a history of beating women and now he was beating a soldier’s son. Marcus looked up from his empty plate. “Am I going to jail now?” “Soon,” Big Tom said. “But first we need to visit your house to get your things.” Fear flashed across Marcus’s face. “No, Derek will hurt you, too.” 15 bikers laughed at that idea.

 Let him try,” Razer said darkly. They rode to a small house with an American flag in the window, probably from when Marcus’s father was alive. Marcus rode with Big Tom, wearing a huge helmet that made him look even smaller. Big Tom knocked on the door politely. “A man answered, wreaking of beer and cigarettes.” “Yeah,” Derek slurred.

 “We’re returning Marcus,” Big Tom said calmly. Dererick’s bloodshot eyes found Marcus hiding behind the bikers. That little brat finally came back. He reached for Marcus. Big Tom caught his wrist and squeezed until Derek yelped in pain. “Let’s talk privately,” Big Tom suggested in a voice that wasn’t a suggestion.

 Angela appeared in the doorway and the bikers saw everything they needed to see. Black eye, bruised arms, the look of a beaten woman. “Marcus,” she cried, reaching for her son. “But Marcus backed away from his own mother.” “You picked him over, Daddy,” he said quietly. Those words shattered Angela completely. Derek tried to act tough.

 Get off my property before I call the cops. Please do. Big Tom said. I’d love to explain how you’ve been beating a war widow and her seven-year-old son. Derek went pale. You can’t prove anything. That’s when Snake held up his phone showing a recording of Marcus describing the beatings. Every detail, every date, every injury documented.

 Actually, we can prove everything. Snake said. Derek made a fatal mistake. He swung at Big Tom. The punch never landed. Big Tom caught his fist and twisted his arm behind his back, slamming him against the wall. “You like hitting kids?” Big Tom asked quietly. “How about trying someone your own size?” “Please don’t hurt him,” Angela begged.

 “He’ll be worse after you leave.” “That stopped Big Tom cold.” She was right. They couldn’t guard this family forever. Pack your things, Big Tom told Angela. You and Marcus are leaving right now. I can’t leave, Angela protested. I have nowhere to go. Yes, you do, said a new voice. Everyone turned to see a woman in military dress uniform with Sergeant stripes. I’m Sergeant Lisa Martinez.

 I served with your husband in Afghanistan. Angela gasped. Marcus talked about you. He saved my life in Kandahar. Lisa said, “I’ve been looking for his family for two years.” She looked at Derek with disgust. Marcus Williams was a hero who died protecting others, and you’re beating his wife and son.

 Derek tried to run. Three bikers closed him to the ground. “Here’s what’s happening,” Big Tom announced. “Angela and Marcus are leaving, and you’re never contacting them again.” “You can’t kidnap my wife,” Derek shouted. “Your wife?” Lisa laughed bitterly. You mean Marcus Williams wife who you’ve been torturing? She pulled out her phone.

 I have 20 members of Marcus’ unit ready to testify about what kind of man he was and what kind of scum would hurt his family. Angela found her courage. I want a divorce. You’ll get nothing from me. Derek snarled. She’ll get everything, said another voice. A man in a suit walked up. I’m James Patterson, attorney for the Veterans Legal Foundation, and we protect Gold Star families.

 He handed Derek papers, restraining order, effective immediately. Derek read the papers and went white. “This says I have to leave my own house.” “It’s not your house,” the lawyer corrected. “It’s Angela’s house from her husband’s life insurance, and you’ve been living there illegally.” “The truth came out. Derek had convinced Angela to marry him just to get access to her husband’s military death benefits.

” “You married me for money?” Angela asked in horror. Derek’s silence was confession enough. Big Tom released Derek. You have five minutes to pack and leave forever. Or what? Derek challenged. 15 bikers stepped forward as one unit. Or we come back when there’s no witnesses, Razer said quietly. Derek ran inside, threw clothes in a bag, and drove away fast.

 He knew predators when he saw them, and these weren’t prey. Angela collapsed, sobbing. I dishonored my husband’s memory. No, Lisa said firmly. You were a grieving widow who got manipulated by a con man. Marcus finally ran to his mother. They held each other crying while 15 bikers pretended something was in their eyes. “Where will we go?” Angela asked.

“There’s a program for gold star families,” Lisa explained. “Full housing assistance, counseling, and a support network of military families.” “Why didn’t I know about this before?” Angela asked. Because Derek isolated you from everyone who could help, the lawyer explained. Classic abuser tactic. Big Tom knelt beside Marcus.

 You’re the bravest kid I’ve ever met. I’m not brave, Marcus protested. I ran away. Running from danger to find help isn’t cowardice, Big Tom said. It’s smart survival. My dad would be ashamed of me, Marcus said quietly. Lisa pulled out her phone and showed Marcus a photo. It was his father in uniform with his unit.

 Your dad once told me that his greatest fear wasn’t dying in combat. Lisa said it was leaving you unprotected. She looked at the bikers surrounding them. He’d be proud that you found protectors when you needed the most. Marcus looked at Big Tom. Are you really going to arrest me for stealing? Here’s your sentence. Big Tom said seriously.

Community service every Sunday washing motorcycles at our clubhouse. That’s not jail, Marcus said, confused. It’s better than jail, Big Tom explained. You get to learn about motorcycles and hang out with really cool guys. Marcus smiled for the first time. Can I bring my mom? Your mom’s welcome anytime. Big Tom said.

 The bikers helped Angela and Marcus move into a furnished apartment that the Veterans Foundation provided that very day. It was clean, safe, and nobody would hurt them there. But the devil’s disciples didn’t stop there. They put word out on the street about Derek Thompson. Every biker club in three states knew his name, his face, and what he’d done.

 He couldn’t show his face anywhere without consequences. Marcus started his community service that Sunday. 30 bikers taught him about engines, honor, and how real men protect families instead of hurting them. Angela got counseling and slowly healed from the trauma. She joined a support group for Gold Star Wives and found her strength again.

 6 months later at the Veterans Day parade, Marcus stood with his mother watching the bikes roll by. Big Tom pulled up and handed Marcus something. It was his father’s dog tags, which Dererick had stolen and sold. “How did you find these?” Angela gasped. “We have our ways,” Big Tom said simply. Marcus put them around his neck proudly.

“My dad was a hero.” “So are you,” Big Tom said. “You saved yourself and your mom by being brave enough to ask for help. Will Derek ever come back? Marcus asked quietly. Never, Razer promised. We made sure of that. And they had. Derek Thompson was arrested two states away for fraud and domestic violence against another military widow.

 He got I’m in prison because of the bikers. If you love this video, click the like button and subscribe. 15 years in prison where inmates don’t treat woman beaters kindly. Marcus still washes bikes every Sunday. Not because he has to anymore, but because that’s what you do for family. The family that chose him when he needed them most.

 The family that honored his fallen father by protecting his son. The devil’s disciples didn’t just save Marcus that night. Marcus saved them, too, by reminding them that underneath all that leather and steel were hearts that could still recognize innocence worth protecting. That’s what real brotherhood looks like.

 That’s what bikers really do when children need heroes. They become them. Click the subscribe button and show us your support.