Free Bikers and Pearls by Vicki Wilkerson

being in the dark lot alone, so she grabbed one of the fliers
     beside her and started making notes on it for the fundraiser. They needed to make
     tickets and get some kind of refreshment stand set up. She had some experience working
     with the Humanity Project, so she jotted down a few ideas while she waited. Then she
     heard a different noise and looked up.
    Pulling up beside her was a red BMW 700 series. Good thing it wasn’t one of those
     camouflage-painted pickup trucks with a gun rack hanging in the rear. Immediately
     she breathed a sigh of relief.
    The passenger on the rear driver’s side got out first. She didn’t hesitate to roll
     down her window. Thank goodness the car’s battery was still okay.
    “Need some help, lady?” the man in a blue Polo sweater asked as he leaned against
     her car. He made a slow motion with his hand at the Beamer for the others to get out.
     Two other men—probably in their early twenties—exited their car.
    All dressed in pressed khakis like they were heading to a golf tournament or a church
     social, they sauntered over to her dead vehicle. The driver, who had yellow-blond
     hair, leaned into her window. “Why don’t you get out so we can get a better look?”
    “Well, actually, you don’t need to look at the engine. We know what it is. But thank
     you for asking anyway,” she said.
    They all laughed. It was a laugh that made her uncomfortable. One of the boys stumbled,
     then held on to her car to steady himself.
    She raised her window, but left a crack at the top.
    “Why don’t you get out anyway?” the driver asked with a sinister smile. Similar grins
     were on the other men’s faces. Then he pulled at the handle on her door, became frustrated,
     and hit the roof of her car with his hand. “Open it,” he said, giving her a serious
     stare.
    April’s heart dropped. These were not harmless good ole boys or Southern gentlemen,
     looking to help someone out. They were creeps or worse.
    She wanted Bull right then more than she had ever wanted anything in her entire life.
    She knew she was in big trouble. Her hands shook as she felt about for the switch
     to try to finish raising the car’s window. Where was it? Where was it?
    And her phone was dead. She picked it up anyway to show the jerks that she had a cell.
     They wouldn’t know it was useless.
    The blond guy reached inside through the opening, and in a menacing voice, said, “Nice
     hair, lady.”
    “Stop it!” She jerked out of his way and threw the phone at him, but it only hit the
     window and broke into pieces. Tears welled in her eyes, but she was determined not
     to show the thugs she was scared. Where is Bull?
    Blue sweater guy went to the passenger side of the car, and the other two covered
     her escape at her door. The sound of her heart hammered in her ears. Where is Bull?
    Then the ringleader struggled to reach through the small opening in the window, unlocked
     the door, and opened it. She kicked at him with her red heels and tried to push herself
     into the passenger seat to get away.
    “Stop it!” she yelled. Where is Bull?
    The man who was having trouble walking reached in, grabbed her arm, and yanked her
     out the car. He almost fell as he took a step toward her, pressing her against the
     car with his body.
    She stomped his foot with her heel and tried to wrench herself away from him.
    “Dammit! That hurt.” He leaned his head so close to her neck that she felt his hot
     breath warm the spot right under her ear. He adjusted his body even tighter against
     hers. “Mmmmm,” he said as he aligned his lips to hers. She turned her face away from
     his breath—the same kind of breath she’d smelled on those men the night of the accident.
    The third guy said, “Hey, Brock, that’s enough. Let’s go.”
    Brock laughed.
    She tried to bring her knee up between his legs, but he blocked it. She opened her
     mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
    “Now, you’re in big trouble,” he