^^ Lenni ^^

Do you ever have those days where you wake up, and somehow you just know that something bad will happen today? It was one of those days for me today. As I was choosing my shoes this morning, something told me to wear flats for once. But me, being the genius that I am, ignored my gut instinct and chose the lace up knee high boots to go with my skinny jeans.

So now, as I'm running down the dark streets - seriously, where are the damn streetlights?! - and listening to the two men's trainers slapping the ground not far behind me, I am seriously kicking myself. Now if I was wearing any of my other heels, I could have slipped them off and ran shoe-less. But no, I chose the boots that take forever to lace up, let alone undo.

As I turn a corner onto yet another dark street lined with houses, I'm quite proud of myself for the amount of multitasking I'm doing right now. Not only am I running away from the two psychos, I'm also trying to remember how the hell to get back to a part of town that actually has some life in it. It's eleven at night, and so far I haven't seen a single light on in any of the houses. Apparently, everyone in this area believes in a good old early night. I'm also listening to the steps behind me and realising that the men may well be playing with me. I'm wearing four-inch heels and they haven't caught me yet. At the same time, I'm giving myself a pat on the back for not being the girl in the horror film who keeps looking back and ends up skidding down the road on her face after tripping over absolutely nothing.

Another corner, onto another street, only this one has streetlights! I may finally be getting somewhere. I hear the rumble of a motorbike somewhere behind me, and on any other day I would've stopped and shamelessly ogled the beautiful machine as it passed, but my thoughts are elsewhere tonight. However, it catches my attention as it speeds past and the rider looks back at me before performing a U-turn and stopping just ahead. As I slow my pace I chance a look back and see the men behind me slow to a walk, looking between me and the biker, who has just motioned with his head for me to get on. I can't see his face, he wears a dark hood that casts a shadow over it.

Two scenarios pass through my head in this second. Biker Guy could be a friend of the psychos, so if I get on the bike, I'm officially screwed. Or, he could just be a passerby who decided to help the random girl running for her life. Another look back shows the men less than twenty feet away, and in the faint light, I can see the black eye on one of them - that I may or may not have given him - being emphasised by his scowl, as his friend continues flicking his focus between me and Biker Guy. That scowl makes my decision for me, and before I consciously know it, I find myself moving towards the bike and swinging my leg over the seat. Psycho number one's scowl deepens as Biker Guy revs the engine, which reassures me they aren't friends. As the bike moves off, I wrap an arm around the guy's waist and flick my middle finger up at my pursuers as we pass them, grinning as I feel Biker Guy's abs rippling as he chuckles.

Five minutes later and the bike slows down before the guy starts walking it backwards. Looking around I see we're on the high street, pulling up outside a cafe, which is miraculously still open. I was honestly starting to believe that this tiny town only lived and breathed on daylight hours. I step off the bike and move to the side, trying to put my long brown hair back into its ponytail. Clarity suddenly hits me and I realise that I am standing on a street, with a biker who I have never met, after just taking a ride on his Harley. I clear my throat and start backing away slowly.

"So, um, thanks for the ride and everything," I say, looking around for a quick exit. "I'm just going to go now. So uh thanks again-"

I stop talking as he grabs my wrist and points to the cafe. His grip is gentle but I get the feeling that if I fight, he's not going to go so easy on me. I swallow loudly and nod.

"Right, ok. I guess I could use a coffee or something."

He lets go of my wrist and opens the door, motioning for me to go ahead. He takes his hood down as I get close, and in the light from the cafe, I finally get a good look at him. And wow! This guy, he's gorgeous! He's at least six foot two, towering over me even with the added height of my heels. His black hair is short on the sides and slightly longer on the top, and his eyes are a bright blue that doesn't look natural. His shoulders are broad and as he pushes the door further I see his muscles strain against his hoody sleeve. This guy is big. And now my filthy mind is picturing him naked and wondering what else is big about him. Oh lord save me. He raises an eyebrow and I suddenly realise that I've been stood there for a while blatantly checking him out. Oops. I clear my throat again and walk past him through the doorway, trying my hardest not to brush up against him and encourage my filthy mind anymore. I can't help but get a lungful of his scent as I pass though, and the guy smells like heaven. It's a mixture of leather, cigarettes and aftershave, and it makes my knees weak.

The cafe is empty, but I can hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen at the back. I take a seat at the counter, noticing that Biker Guy is leaning on the wall near the door. He watches the street like some kind of sentry, not taking his eyes off the outside world for even a second. I rest my forearms on the counter in front of me and lean my forehead down against them. The adrenaline from the chase has worn off, and exhaustion hits me like a steam train. As I struggle to keep my eyes open, I hear the rumble of more bikes approaching and my body tenses. Maybe if I keep my head on my arms, no one will notice me and I can get out of this place alive. Of course, that depends on Biker Guy forgetting about the girl he just saved, so it doesn't seem likely.

The bell on the door jingles, announcing my doom, and the laughter of several men reaches my ears. Okay, they're in a good mood. This might go well. My head snaps up as I hear a voice I never thought I'd hear again.

"That was fucking beautiful boys!" His Irish accent hasn't faded over the years, and I can't help but spin my head round to look, because surely he isn't here, in this tiny town in a completely different country. But as I get a look at him, I realise he is. His dark hair has more grey in it now, and the laughter lines around his eyes are more pronounced, but it's him. I stand slowly from the stool and turn to look at him properly.

"Of all the gin joints..." I say quietly. Obviously not quietly enough, because all five men fall silent and turn to look at me, looking at him.

"Do I know you love?" He asks, looking me up and down. I can tell I look familiar to him, as I watch his mouth twist while he tries to work out where he knows me from. I feel like I should be offended, but I can't bring myself to be.

I grin. "You should do Skids! You've seen me naked often enough!" My English accent gives me away and I watch his face closely.

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, which has receded slightly over time. "Lenni?" He asks, eyes wide as saucers.

I spread my arms out and wink. "The one and only."

In two steps he reaches me, wrapping his arms around my waist and spinning me around. I'm vaguely aware of the others stepping back to avoid my legs as they swing about. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight, burying my face into his neck. He puts me down and holds me at arm's length, looking me up and down.

"You're all grown up!" He says like he hasn't realised that's what happens.

"Well, yeah," I say, with that 'duh' tone of voice that I know he hates. "That happens after six years."

He frowns, and I can't help but grin at the predicted reaction. "Last time I saw you, you were a scrawny sixteen-year-old. Now you're a full grown woman,"

Now it's my turn to frown, and I'm about to protest the 'scrawny' comment when I'm reminded that we're not alone in the room. A deep voice comes from behind Skids and I look up to see Biker Guy with a raised eyebrow.

"You've seen her naked?" He asks, and I roll my eyes. Of course, that's the part of the conversation that these men picked up on. I can't help the gasp that escapes my mouth as the realisation hits me, and everyone turns to stare at me.

"He talks!" I say, gesturing towards him with a flick of my hand. I'd honestly begun to wonder if the guy was mute. They laugh but don't look surprised by my reaction, so I'm guessing they're used to his silent ways. I notice that all eyes are on me, looking me up and down with looks that can only be called predatory.

Skids looks at the others and frowns again. "I used to change her nappies ya dirty bastards! Girl's like a daughter to me!" He puts his hands on my shoulders and moves me to stand in front of him. "This is Jay," he points to the man directly in front of me. He's an inch or two taller than me in my heels, and I can tell he's well built under his leather jacket. His brown hair reaches his chin, and he brushes it back before reaching a hand out for me to shake. "Philly," he says, gesturing to the man next to Jay. He's shorter than the others, with an obvious beer belly and a grey beard that reaches to his chest, while his head is completely bald. I shake his hand too, before turning to the man who stands on his other side. "Pest," Skids introduces him, and I'm about to ask why when the tall, skinny man reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckles and sending me a wink. It makes more sense now and I pull my hand away slowly, looking between my knuckles and him, barely resisting the urge to wipe my hand on my jeans. Jay reaches behind Philly to slap the back of his head and I laugh. "I'm guessing you've already met Smiler," Skids says nodding at Biker Guy. I can't help it. I laugh, before covering my mouth, blushing as the huge man raises an eyebrow and nods. Can you blame me? The guy is silent and his only facial expression is a raised eyebrow. How ironic.

Jay laughs and motions to a table pulling out a chair for me. They all sit down and I take a good look at all of them before turning to Skids. "I should've known you'd end up in a biker gang," I say, amused.

"We're not a gang. We're a club of motorcycle lovers," Jay says with a grin.

I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table, clasping my hands under my chin and returning his grin. "Sure. And the piece in your jacket and the knife in your sock are just to protect your beloved motorcycle, right?"

He laughs and sits back. "And how would you know about that?"

I stand and reach my hand into my own jacket, pulling the pistol from the inside pocket. Smiler tenses and reaches his hand to the back of his jeans. I know his own gun is there from where it pushed into my stomach as I rode behind him. I raise an eyebrow at him. "Easy tiger," I say, producing my pistol and handing it to Jay, making sure the barrel stays pointing to me. I put my right foot on my chair and pull the knife from inside my boot, holding the blade and handing it to Jay, who puts it on the table, looking at me with obvious questions in his eyes. I shrug. "I grew up in a town with two rival bike clubs," I emphasise the last word, winking at him. "I learnt a thing or two." I don't mention that the gun is a recent addition, and it's to protect me, not my motorcycle.

Smiler relaxes slightly but keeps his gaze on me. "If you're packing, why were you running?" He asks.

"Well, I'm not stupid enough to just shoot someone in the middle of a street. I don't need the hassle and it would have to be a last resort," I say. It's at this point that I see Skids tense beside me and I know I'm in trouble. I turn slowly to look at him, and boy does he look pissed. I smile innocently at him. It doesn't work, it never has.

"I think you need to do some explaining. Starting with why you're not in England, and finishing with tonight. The weapons should be somewhere in the middle."

I pick my weapons up off the table and shrug again. "England is cold and wet, these are for protection and tonight was a misunderstanding." I move towards the door but as I pull it open, Smiler's hand shoots out and slams it shut again. I turn around and gulp. I should've known that they wouldn't let me get away so easily, but a girl can hope, right?