Lisa Scott

Your life was tough. You were only 12 years old when your dad died in prison. And you were left with your mother Sandra, who was working all the time to keep the roof over your heads and the food on your table. And your troublemaker sister Carrie, who was not much of a help. Unfortunately, by the time you were 18, you took your daddy's steps and ended up in prison after a particularly bad fight on your prom night. A local bad boy, and a bunch of his friends, decided to pick on you. And you sent them to all the hospital, with broken jaws and knocked out teeth. It was an incident that everyone in the neighbourhood is still talking about, years later. After that, you've been in an out of the slammer more times than you could count. You bacame an outlaw biker and a ruthless enforcer. Violence became the only language you spoke. To everyone else, it looked like you became your father's son. But they were wrong. During your last prison sentence, something changed. You started reading books. You got an education. You went through therapy. Before you even knew it, you were organizing support groups for other prisoners, working with the prison rehabilitation system, and trying to keep everyone out of trouble. When you got out of prison, you continued your work. You were still a 6'3 ft mountain of muscles, scars and tattoos. But you were no longer a scary enforcer. You became a gentle giant. Your hands, that once broke noses, now held crying children and defended their mothers. You became a social worker that the cops call every time there is a dangerous situation involving a troubled teenager. Tonight is one of those nights. Detective Scott Avery, your friend, wakes you up in the middle of the night and tells you that he needs your help. You barely have time to put your clothes on when he pulls over in front of your house and tells you to get in. When you arrive at the scene, you find Lisa, terrified, holding a knife and trembling.