I whirl round, but I'm too slow as he yanks me into an alley. It's Brick, his face twisted with rage and eyes bright. He looks like he's on something.

I open my mouth to scream, but his hand clamps over it quickly. The panic rises in me as he pulls me back against him, dragging me further into the shadows.

My training drifts through my mind. Go for the weak points. I stomp my heeled boot down on his foot as hard as I can. The shockwave of it vibrates all the way up my leg. His solid biker boot has zero give in it and he doesn't even seem to notice.

I fight back the panic that threatens to take over again and lean my upper body as far forward as possible before slamming my head backwards into his nose. It makes a satisfying crunch, and he releases me with a shove to the floor. My hands slam into the gravel hard, but I barely notice the pain as I scramble to my feet.

Blood drips from his nose and I'm pretty sure it's broken. I turn to run, but before I can get two paces, his fist connects with the back of my head and I'm falling. My forehead hits the ground and stars bloom in my vision.

On my hands and knees, I know just how vulnerable I am, but a kick to my ribs brings me down again. I gasp for air and feel the sharp pain that tells me I've probably broken something.

"Not got so much to say now, have you?" He hisses, flipping me over to face him.

He's even less attractive at this angle and I open my mouth to tell him as much, but his hand moves to the button on my jeans, distracting me as I realise exactly what he's intending to do.

I fight as hard as I can, hitting, clawing and bucking my hips to escape him. He laughs until I catch his nose again and his eyes turn murderous. His hand grabs my throat, pinning me there as he slowly cuts off my oxygen supply.

My vision is darkening and my hands scrabble desperately at his arm. My mum always said my temper would get me in trouble one day. That I would say the wrong thing to the wrong person and regret it. I suppose on this one occasion she might be a little right.

But hey, she also told me self-defence classes were a waste of time and right now I have to beg to differ. He leans in closer to me and I know this is my last chance. His piggy little eyes are enjoying my pain.

With a choked gargle that sounded nothing like the battle cry I had intended, I ram my thumbs into his eye sockets as hard as I can.

He falls back off me with a scream, and I suck in a painful breath. I know this isn't over and I need to move. When I roll, my hands slip in blood as I stagger to my feet.

I'm not sure if it's his or mine, or why there's so much of it but I can't dwell on that. My legs carry me a few achingly painful paces.

There's a roaring, rumbling noise in my ears as I manage another step towards the road before a hand grabs my hair and yanks me back. I fight and twist, desperate to escape his grasp, ignoring the ripping pain of bits of hair leaving my scalp.

The rumbling has stopped and if it weren't for my ragged breathing filling my ears, I would think I had gone deaf.

Suddenly Brick is gone, and without him holding me up by my hair, I end up back on the floor. I don't know how he's gone or why he's gone but I don't look back. I crawl as fast as I can to the road, ignoring the bite of the gravel in my skin.

Under the nearest street lamp I see a large bike, black with chrome finishes. It definitely wasn't there when I went into the alley and I look around for the owner.

A choked noise behind me has me turning and I see a huge man looming over a now cowering Brick.

The man lifts him by the collar of his jacket and slams him into the wall. Brick is begging now and I'm irritated I let such a spineless little creep get the better of me. He had a strength advantage, but I knew better how to use it against him. Still, at least I was still here. That's what mattered.

Then the man slams him into the wall again, and Brick's head drops forward into unconsciousness. Mystery man lets out a noise of disgust before throwing him to the side and turning to look at me.

He moves with a grace that seems at odds with the size of him as he prowls towards me. With his face almost totally in shadow, I don't get a good look until he's two paces away.

I know I should be scared, especially when I see he's a biker, too. But my instincts assure me he's fine, and he did just save me from Brick, the thick prick.

There's an unexpected softness about him, despite the frown marring his forehead and mouth set in a line. I can see the concern in his warm brown eyes, and his jaw tightens as he gives me an assessing look.

I know I probably look far from my best right now. My white bodysuit is filthy and blood stains the neckline. One mesh sleeve is hanging off and caught awkwardly around my elbow. The high-waisted skinny jeans that were my favourite are now torn at both knees and covered in whatever muck coats the alley floor.

"Are you ok?" He asks, his low voice rough and scratchy, as though he doesn't use it very often.

"Never better." I struggle to get to my feet, using the wall for support.

He looks mildly impressed as he reaches out and brushes the bloodstained blonde hair that was escaping my braid off my cheek.

"You shouldn't be messing with bikers, little girl."

"I'm not a little girl," I draw myself up to my full height and give him an indignant look, "and he started it by trying to force himself on girls in the bar."

I used my thumb to gesture over my shoulder to Snake Eyes, the bar we just came from and the man's eyes flicker to look where I point. "The security would never let that happen." He says firmly.

I let out a laugh, "Yeah, they hadn't even noticed when I stepped in to stop him from getting his second victim."

The man doesn't respond, his deep brown eyes searching my face for something. He thinks I'm lying?

I break eye contact to spit blood onto the path and push myself off the wall. My hands are shaking badly now and I press them to my sides to disguise it as the adrenaline begins to wear off. "How was I to know he would throw a man-trum?"

The man blinks, and just for a moment the scowl drops and I see him. Like, really see him. He's actually quite handsome when he doesn't look like he hates the world, but then his walls shoot up again and his forehead creases into another frown. "A what?"

"Mantrum...man tantrum."

"He was trying to kill you?" He points out as if I hadn't noticed.

I sigh dramatically, "I know, and they say women are the emotional ones."

"You embarrassed him in front of his brothers. Do you not get the danger you put yourself in?" He shakes his head in disbelief.

"You were there?" I frowned. It's not important but still bothers me he didn't step in.

"No, I was called by the owner to make sure nothing happened to you as a result of the encounter. It seems I wasn't quite fast enough getting here."

He glares back to where he left Brick in a heap against a bin.

"You came to protect me?"

My heart does this weird little jump at the thought. Jeez, when did my bar get so low that someone just thinking about protecting me was enough to give me fanny flutters?

"I'm not a good man darlin'. Don't look at me like that." He growls.

I try to work out how to change my expression when I have no idea what it currently is. "I mean, you did save me."

"The way I see it, you were doing a damn good job of fighting back yourself." His expression is passive and almost disinterested, but I find myself melting at the praise anyway. "But you still shouldn't be messing with guys like that to start with. A man like that is nothing without his cred, and you humiliated him."

"If a random girl putting him in his place for being a sexist prick is enough to damage his "street cred" then maybe it wasn't that great to begin with." I point out, making air quotations around the words before wincing at the pain the movement brings, shooting through my ribs.

"You're hurt." He reaches for me and I pull back.

It was a statement, not a question, but I still feel the need to reply. "No shit sherlock. I'll be fine. I've had worse."

His expression darkens. "Who else hurt you?"

"Woah, cool it buddy. I just met you. You're not getting my life story, unless you want to share who put that stick up your ass?" I laugh, raising my hands.

He chuckles but then looks startled and stops as though he can't quite believe he could make that noise.

"You're handsome when you laugh." I tell him and then pitch forward and vomit at his feet.