The woman in the library was shouting at my Goth-dressed daughter, calling her a "disgrace," when the biggest biker I'd ever seen stood up from his table. He was a mountain of leather and tattoos, the words "Reaper's Creed MC" stretched across his massive back. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a prison riot, and the entire room held its breath. My 16-year-old, Lily, was trying to shrink into her chair, her black-lipsticked mouth trembling as this stranger publicly berated her for her pier