Page 5 of Dark Biker Protector

The chirpy tones had me rolling my eyes back at once, but I knew there was no point trying to get rid of her. God only knew how many times I had tried to make it clear to this girl that I wasn’t going to give her the story she so clearly thought she was owed. Abbey had been hanging around the shop for a while now, ever since she had worked with Star on bringing down her father’s family, but she didn’t seem to get that we weren’t exactly the types to talk to journalists.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. She looked me up and down.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, tipping her head to the side, her chin-length brown hair falling into her face. She wrinkled her slightly upturned nose.

"It’s nearly two in the morning," I pointed out. "Of course I’m drunk."

She giggled slightly, and then tucked her hair back behind her ear.

"I guess you’ve got a point," she replied. "I was hoping to run into you here-"

"What the hell are you doing here at this time of night?" I demanded. "You know how much trouble you could get in, wandering around by yourself out here?"

"I couldn’t sleep," she replied with a shrug, as if that was, in any way, a decent answer to my question. I shook my head.

"You need to go home," I told her. "You can’t be here. It’s not safe for you."

"Why not?" she asked. "Aren’t you the boss around here? Don’t you get to say how things go?"

I rolled my shoulders back slightly. Yeah, she was right. I ran this part of the city, no matter how many people wished I didn’t. She knew she was getting somewhere, appealing to my ego like this, and she grinned up at me.

"I’m right, aren’t I?" she asked.

"I guess you could say that."

"So why don’t you talk to me about it?" she pressed. I rolled my eyes skyward.

"Abbey, I’ve told you; we’re not doing this damn interview."

"Why not?" she asked, countering me before I so much as had a chance to get the words out. "It could do you the world of good. You know, letting people see you guys for who you really are, not just the way the world sees you."

"Because I don’t want to deal with any cops getting involved."

"I’m not going to involve the cops," she replied, shaking her head quickly. "I won’t use anyone’s real names, obviously. I just think there’s so much about you guys that people don’t know. Maybe it would make things easier for you, if people knew they didn’t have to be so scared of you?"

"You really think I want people to be less scared of me?" I asked her, gazing down at her for a moment. In my drunken state, I couldn’t help but notice how cute she was. Not that it mattered. She stuffed her hands into the pocket of her jacket, and her cheeks flushed slightly.

"No, I mean...I just think it would be interesting, that’s all," she replied. "Just one interview. It doesn’t have to be much. I won’t even make you guys the focus of it, if you don’t want. I just need something to go on. I need a story, Chuck."

I eyed her for a long moment, and even though all my good sense was telling me to turn her right around and get her out of here, there was another part of me that kind of wanted to see how this story might turn out if we let her do it. I liked a girl who had the nerve to push for what she wanted.

"Fine," I muttered, and her face lit up, eyes widening.

"Oh, you mean that?" she blurted. "You really mean it?"

"Yeah, I do," I muttered. "Now, you need to get out of here before I change my mind."

She scrambled hastily in her pocket, pulling out her phone.

"We could do the interview right now, if you want," she offered, and I stared at her incredulously.

"While I’m drunk? Doesn’t that break some kind of code of ethics for you people?"

She pushed her phone away again.

"Point taken," she muttered. "But you promise? You really will do this interview with me?"

"If it’s the only way I’m going to get rid of you," I shot back. She grinned at me.

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