“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 sideoccasionally.
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 herdreams.
Still, she wasn’t going to tell this stranger that she’d rather walk home at night just to be completely exhausted to at least get some sleep.
“I’m starting to wonder if you have any friends,” she said.
“I have friends.”
“What kind? Are they stuffed?” She didn’t know why she felt so free to joke around with this guy. He must be terrifying to most with his many tattoos and the scar on his neck. This man’s body had a lot of stories to tell of a hard life.
She was shocked he was still coming around to see her, to talk to her. It wasn’t like she was thrilling company, not compared to the women he must know back at the clubhouse. She’d seen how beautiful they all were.
“You’re funny,” he said.
Bell thought about getting him a stuffed bear, but then she figured this would be one of their last meetings. She didn’t expect to see him again. “Shall we?” Bell asked.
He nodded for her to start walking.
They started walking together, and for a few seconds, neither of them spoke. It wasn’t awkward or weird, just natural. Comfortable. Tank didn’t give her any bad vibes.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked.