Hard Rider

Whelp. That was a mistake.

Now they think they’re amusing me.

I quickly poured their shots and brought them over, ignoring the way that the newly arrived stranger’s eyes traced the outline of my body.

God. What is it with everyone eyeballing me like a piece of meat tonight?

At least he was fucking attractive, unlike these old weekend warriors in their leather costumes...

“Thanks, Darlin’,” the lead biker told me. He placed his hand on my bare shoulder, his fingers barely brushing my hair as I dropped off their shots.

“Hey. Don’t touch me,” I flinched.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Trent stiffen up, his head cocked very slightly.

“She’s feisty, boys!”

The other bikers hungrily grinned at me. I didn’t like the looks on their faces.

“Alright, that’s it for tonight. I’ve gotta close down soon anyway. You ready to finish out your tabs?”

The leader scowled. “Cuttin’ us off, Darlin’?”

“It’s that time,” I pointed at the dusty clock on the wall.

I slipped back behind the safety of the bar, announcing last call. To my satisfaction, nobody raised their attention for a top-off, and I began closing out checks and dismissing the regular patrons with a weary, thankful smile.

After about two minutes, everyone was gone except the new guy and the bikers.

Trent hadn’t seemed to really care about my announcement. He continued working on his beer at the same rate, leaving over half of it still in his glass.

“I’m probably gonna need that glass back in a few minutes,” I smiled coldly, nodding towards the clock again. “Closing in five.”

“Understood,” he nodded, his traces of cockiness gone. Instead, he seemed a little on edge.

No idea why.

The bikers were bothering me, after all.

“Got a bathroom?” Trent suddenly asked.

I pointed him towards the doorway around the other side of the bar. He slipped off of his stool and sauntered towards the hall.

This left me alone with the bikers. Their lecherous leader called me over, and I reluctantly strolled to his side with the check.

“Here you go, lass,” he chuckled, dropping a few twenties onto the tabletop. One flittered down to the floor, and I begrudgingly reached down for it.

I only realized the mistake just as his hand smacked roughly against my ass.

“Ow!” I called out, quickly hopping back up and glaring menacingly at them. “I said, ‘Don’t touch me.’ I don’t give a flying shit how drunk you are. You can’t do that.”

“Sorry, Darlin’. You’re just too damn pretty.”

“I’m cashing you out, and you’re getting out of my bar.”

The biker stood up swiftly, grabbing me by the arm. He pulled me deep into his embrace, his thick, alcoholic breath stinging my eyes. He was an old guy, but he was built strong and mean.

I struggled, but I couldn’t pull free.

“I don’t know about all that, sweetheart,” his gravelly voice rumbled. “I think you owe me and my boys a proper apology.” His thick lips curled into a disgusting smile. I tried to scream, and a rugged hand clamped around my mouth.

Trent

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard scuffling from the bar. I never should have left her alone with them.

They were a pack of wild, drunken animals, and she was a young, sexy, defenseless girl.

There was no argument.

No questioning in my head.

I knew what I had to do and I acted.

The group had her pinned against the bar top. Judging by the muffled noises, a hand was clamped tightly over her lips. They were hungrily pulling at her miniskirt when the last one spotted me just a moment too late.

With a sickly crack, my fist connected with his face, sending the man stumbling backwards against the others.

Two of the assholes kept holding the poor girl down while the big one – probably their leader, by the looks of it – reeled forward with a roaring fist.

I sidestepped, tripping him into a table and sending the remnants of a beer splashing at my feet. Things were rapidly getting out of control. The bikers recovered quickly, lunging for me in unison.

Thinking fast, I stepped backwards but slipped on the wet floor. My head connected with a barstool, making me vulnerable just at the wrong time.

Someone grabbed me by the shirt as I tried to orient myself. A powerful fist smashed into my face, but I detached myself and head-butted the offender.

“Fuck!” The voice called out.

It sounded like the leader.

Good.

The other guy tried to lash at me as I clambered to my feet, but I ducked his strike. Using his weight to my advantage, I grabbed at his arm and knocked him off balance. Before he could regain footing, I drove his head straight down into the bar.

His skull connected with a resounding WHAM!

The leader was on top of me again, as he tried to get in a solid gut punch. I took one in the ribs before managing to push him back.

My hand brushed against a dirty glass. It was a stray tumbler, fostering the last few, forgotten sips of dark liquor.

Perfect, I thought to myself.

I smashed it hard against the side of his face.

“Goddammit!” He cried out as glass flew everywhere. “You fucking SHIT!”

I could hear a commotion from behind him. Lunging forward, I dove like a feral animal towards the two bikers still holding down the bartender.

She was kicking and fighting and had managed to bite the hand covering her face.

I aimed my weakened but effective punch at the distracted biker with the bitten hand, catching him just off-center. Stunned, he stumbled backwards against a low wall.

The bartender broke free from the other asshole, dodging around the rising leader and behind the counter.

Whoever this girl was, she was a quick and nimble little minx. She dove behind the bar.

The leader got in a few good licks at me before I grappled him down to the floorboards. He got the upper hand briefly, but I managed to force him onto his back, straddling him and delivering a few solid wallops to either side of his head.

I was just climbing up when I heard the scraping behind me.

Before I knew what was happening, the bar stool connected with my head. Falling, my eyes cast back to the bar. A beautiful yet frightening face was rising from behind the dark wooden counter with a beastly looking 12-gauge shotgun in her hands. An explosion rang out, the gun punching a large hole in the ceiling. My loudly ringing ears couldn’t mask the unmistakable sound of the pretty girl racking another shell.

…And then everything went black.

Angel

It was awhile before Trent finally started to stir. The tiny, makeshift bed creaked with his sleepy, sluggish movements, and I firmly pressed my fingertips down over

his pectoral.

“No. Stay down. Rest.”

He nodded quietly, relaxing back down.

I lifted my fingers from his chest. Even through his shirt, I could tell how built he was. He probably had a stack of washboard abs below.

Privately, I grumbled that it hadn’t occurred to me to bother checking that.

This guy was probably a muscle powerhouse beneath these clothes, and I’d missed my one chance to sneak a peak without him knowing.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked.

“Water,” he asked.

I reached for the glass that I’d prepared and left beside him. Holding the edge to his lips, I carefully slipped him some of the cold water.

“Where are we?” He asked me, coughing.

“Where I live,” I answered truthfully.

We were in a backroom with a single window casting in moonlight from above. A bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling but I hated its sickly glow, so I relied on the natural light (or lack thereof).

Besides, I was used to moving around in the dark.

It made it easier to forget that I was trapped living in such a complete dump.

“I thought you were an asshole when you walked in,” I remarked. “You kept looking at me like I was a hot piece of meat... And then you go and save me from those fuckers.”

“Yeah, well…it’s been a weird night.”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed. “But listen. I need to check you out.”

In the dim lighting, I saw his lips curl into that cocky smile again. “You don’t need my permission for that.”

“Ugh. Not like that,” I corrected. “But you took a beating there. Like a fucking champ, I’ll admit. Still, I need to take a look at your head. You might have a concussion.”

“Explains why my head hurts so much,” Trent laughed painfully. “Go ahead, doc.”

He slowly pulled himself to a seated position, and I helped him out of his shirt. After telling him to close his eyes briefly, I flicked on the overhead light.

Oh sweet Jesus.

He was temporarily blinded, but I adjusted quickly – fast enough to see how amazing his powerful, rugged build really was.