The Biker's Fate

　　Danielle

　　I STARED DOWN at my dashboard console and willed the check engine light to stop the infernal red glow. How I got where I was, I had no freaking clue, which meant I had no freaking clue how to find the freeway entrance to get home. "You are an idiot, Dani," I whispered out loud.

　　As if on a mission from the devil, my nineteen ninety-nine Honda shuddered, then back-fired, slowing to a crawl as I inched forward down a non-descript side street. Why Portland didn't have better signage was beyond me.

　　I jumped as my cell phone pealed in the silence of the car. Without looking at the screen, because really, I was trying not to end up dead in some obscure place I'd never been before, I flipped it open. "Hello," I whispered.

　　"Why are we whispering?" Kim, my best friend of more than ten years, whispered back.

　　I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. "I'm kind of lost and my stupid car won't go over nineteen miles an hour."

　　"So, no different than any other day," she quipped. "How did the date go?"

　　"Sucked."

　　"How bad?" she asked.

　　"Getting my eyeballs plucked out by crows, while my fingernails were ripped off one-by-one would have been much more enjoyable kind of bad," I ground out.

　　"Ew, sorry honey," Kim commiserated. "Did you stay and have dinner with him?"

　　"No. I endured one drink and an appetizer and then faked a phone call. Seriously, Kimmie, the guy was a douche."

　　"So, online dating's not for you?"

　　"Dating, period is not for me."

　　Kim chuckled. "Where are you?"

　　"I have no freaking clue," I admitted. "Somewhere in Arbor Lodge I think?"

　　"Holy crap, girl, you don't want to be lost there when it's almost dark."

　　"Thanks, Captain Obvious." I leaned forward to get a better view out of the windshield. "It's totally deserted, and I can't find a street sign to save my life."

　　"What's around you?"

　　"Nothing." I squinted trying to make out the light in front of me. The area was heavily commercial, so I wasn't sure what business would be open past eight on a Wednesday night. "I think I see something. Crap. My contacts are killing me."

　　"Pull over and take them out, silly. You have your glasses with you, right?"

　　"Yeah, but I don't want to stop, Kimmie... what if I can't get started again?"

　　"What if you can't see what you're about to hit?"

　　"Stop being so logical," I ground out.

　　Kim sighed. "Please, Dani, be safe. Pull over, put on your glasses, and call your brother."

　　"Fine. I'm pulling over. Hold please." Guiding my car to the curb, I put it in park. "Okay. I'm gonna hang up and call Elliot."

　　"Good. Call me when—"

　　The phone went dead.

　　"Crap." I took a second to pull out my contacts and slide on my glasses, before I glanced in my side mirror and put the car in drive again. "Okay, old lady, please get me somewhere I can find a phone." I inched out into the street again and rolled about three hundred feet before my car let out a sputter and a hiss and the engine died. "Okay. It's okay," I chanted. "We've been here before, girl. You can do it." I cranked the engine and although it turned over, I couldn't get it to fully engage. I tried again, got it started, but had barely pulled further to the side of the road when it died...again. "No, no, no, no!" I cranked the engine again, but still no luck, so I put it in park.

　　Grabbing my purse off the floor, I rummaged around for my phone charger, finding it and plugging it into the lighter, hoping for enough juice to call my brother. I pushed every button on my phone in an effort to power it up again, but it had been losing its charge quicker and quicker over the past few weeks and it was now officially dead. "Damn it!"

　　I dropped my head to the steering wheel and took a minute to feel sorry for myself as I imagined the six-o'clock news headline, "Young woman murdered after car breaks down in sketchy area of Portland. It's surprising since she comes from law-enforcement royalty. Another statistic? It certainly looks that way."

　　I'm not entirely sure how long I sat in my dead car and imagined my murder and death before a knock at my window had me squeaking in fright. I glanced out to see an extraordinarily gorgeous man leaning down with a sexy smile on his face. Tall with darkish hair, blue eyes, and a face that could only be described as beautiful, he looked quite a bit like Charlie Hunnam with a full beard and nose ring. He wore a pair of faded jeans that looked like they were made for him, a white thermal, tight-fitting shirt that showcased his muscular chest a bit too well, causing my heart to race and my breathing to catch. A black leather jacket that cemented his sexy as hell look completed the ensemble.

　　I cranked my window part of the way down... he couldn't kill me if he could only get his fingers inside, right?

　　"You lost, darlin'?" he asked.

　　His voice washed over me and I squirmed in my seat as I tried not to sigh at the slight southern twang. "Um, yeah. A little."

　　"Not a great part of town for a pretty girl to get lost in." He straightened, crossing his arms. "You got someone comin' for you?"

　　I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. "Both my car and my phone are dead. So, that would be a big fat no."

　　"Alright. Why don't you come with me?"

　　"No, that's okay."

　　He smiled again. "Sweetheart, my club's yard is right down the block. I'll get some of my brothers to push your car into the lot where it'll be safe, and we can fix it for you tomorrow. In the meantime, you can get out of the cold and either make a phone call or I'll take you home."

　　I bit my lip and pondered my options. The definite probability of dying of starvation and exposure before morning, or the potential of being murdered by the best looking man I'd ever seen were pretty much all I could come up with.

　　"No one will hurt you, if that's what concerns you," he promised.

　　"I wish that made me feel better," I admitted. "I mean, I wonder how many women have gone off with some tall, gorgeous man because he said he wouldn't hurt them, only to be murdered? Super murdered. We'd never know, right? 'Cause they're dead. Like as in dead, dead, not a little dead, but a lot dead."

　　His mouth quivered for a second before he burst out in laughter. "You've got a point, darlin', but if you're with me, no one'll touch you."

　　"Including you?"

　　He sobered, but his eyes were still sparkling with humor. "If that's what you want."

　　I rolled the window back up and grabbed my purse and keys. I had a feeling I'd regret this sudden trust I was feeling toward him, but I didn't really have much of a choice other than to let him help me, so I unlocked my door and climbed out of the car.

　　He held it for me and slammed it closed once I was on the sidewalk. I'd locked it before he closed it, not that it mattered... no one would steal a piece of crap car like mine and I kept nothing of value in it.

　　The wind had picked up since I left the restaurant, and I pulled my coat further around me as we walked down the street. "I'm Danielle, by the way. Um, Dani, actually."

　　"Booker."

　　"Nice to meet you, Mr. Booker."

　　"Just Booker."

　　"Oh. Okay."

　　He smiled.

　　"You mentioned your club's yard." I frowned. "What kind of yard?"

　　"This location's our wreck 'n' tow yard. Got other businesses in other locations," he said vaguely. "Anything with an engine, we can tow, fix or build."

　　I nodded. "And you said 'club.' I'm assuming it's not a sewing club, right?"

　　Booker smiled. "Motorcycle club."

　　I stopped. It took him a minute to realize I was no longer beside him, which gave me a partial view of the back of his jacket. Dogs of something. Dogs of Wonder? No, that wouldn't be right... a badass motorcycle guy wouldn't have Dogs of Wonder on the back of his jacket.