Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
“You’ve got it so wrong,” he said.
“They’ve never harmed me, and I’ve been walking this street for the past year, or at least whenever my friend forgets to pick me up, which is often.”
“You have a friend who picks you up?” he asked.
“Sometimes. It would seem her date was far more enjoyable than she expected.” She shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Tank glanced behind her and then down the road. “Where did you come from?”
The young woman laughed, and he couldn’t help but like the sound. It was a soft, beautiful sound.
“About a mile back. There’s a shortcut that takes you to a diner. I work there. It’s a nice place. This is off the beaten track, so not a lot of motorists come down here, but back at the diner, it’s on the main road, so it’s busy all the time. That’s what it’s called, Main Road Diner. They have the best milkshakes.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He’d never heard of the place, but then again, he didn’t make it a habit of riding on main roads unless he had to handle club business. When they had jobs to do, it was rare for Lord to want to take any main roads and risk catching the suspicious eye of a local cop.
The fewer people they had to pay off, the more money for the club.
“I still don’t think this is a road for women,” Tank said. “Too isolated. Don’t you know lunatics and psychos still drive around looking for unsuspecting victims?”
“Which one are you?” she asked.
“What?”
“A lunatic or a psycho?”
“Are you trying to have fun with me?”
“Just lightening the mood. I’m Bell,” she said.
“Is that short for anything?” he asked, taking her offered hand.
“Not that I know of. It’s just Bell. I’m pretty sure it was all my mother could spell when she had to register me.”
There was something in her tone, and he hated to be so damn curious about it. He wanted to know a lot more about her.
“Tank.”
“Is that short for anything?” she asked.
“It’s my road name.”
“What about your real one?”
“A lady has to earn that name,” he said.
“Fine, my road name is … Attitude.” She pouted her lips, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Okay, Attitude. How about I give you a ride home?”
“Not on that death trap. Thank you for the offer. It was sweet of you.”
“I’m not going to leave you to walk alone,” he said.
“Then walk beside me.” She shrugged. “It’s late, and I’m tired.”
She put a hand over her mouth, and he saw she was still holding the pepper spray. After climbing off his bike, he moved into step beside her. It wasn’t too far for him to drop off his bike, and then he’d walk her home.
“You know, this is ruining your villain image,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be wanting to take advantage of the lone damsel in distress?”
“I’ve never played by the rules,” he said. “No point in starting now. So, why am I a villain?” He’d never spoken to a woman like this. Never really talked with one like an equal.
Other than a couple of club whores, most women treated him with a certain amount of disdain. They hated the leather cut, even if some of them wanted to take a trip on the wild side occasionally.
He got the sense Bell didn’t judge him, which was odd and really refreshing. Everyone judged him. His size alone scared off most people. And the club was always a target for hatred.
Not that he ever cared. He did what he wanted without a care in the world.
“According to stereotypes, you just are.”
“You don’t believe in them?”
“I don’t believe in judging people until I get to know them. Probably sounds stupid and lame, but I know what it’s like to be in that position, so it’s my life’s mission to be open-minded.”
“Life’s mission? What are you, twelve?”
“I think I’m going to like you, Tank.”
****
Three days later
Bell Castle stepped out of the shortcut and came to a stop when she recognized a certain biker. He had his arms folded as he stared at her. “I don’t like this shortcut.”
“We meet twice in one week. I’ll call this my lucky week,” she said, pulling her bag higher up on her shoulder.
She usually waited twenty minutes for her friend to arrive, but after a quick call went to voicemail, she decided against it. All she was doing was waiting around for the inevitable realization her friend had forgotten her again. One day, she’d be able to afford a car of her own.
“And you need to get yourself some new friends,” he said.
“No, I’m happy with the friends I’ve got. They’re just busy, and I do keep odd hours.” She had always loved being awake late at night.
If she was honest, she didn’t sleep a whole lot. Had always been a light sleeper, and as she got older, she hated being alone. Hated nights. Hated the fear that often clawed its way into her dreams.