She needed my help.

Pretty little thing walking alone at night in this neighborhood is a bad idea.

It doesn't surprise me when I see some of those idiot Sons of Satan messing with a girl like her.

But I can't allow that.

Not here, not on my turf.

Vivian isn't from around here, I can tell the second she gets on my bike.

She needs money though, and we need a bartender.

Not to mention, she's a knockout.

When the Sons of Satan make another attempt on her life though, we're in an all-out war.

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