If I Die Tomorrow (Sons of Anarachy)

Three

"Not so tough now huh?" The man said giving me an evil grin.

"Put the gun down and I'll do whatever it is you want." I tried to reason with him. He chuckled.

"Oh I know you will. Now come back here."

Keeping my hands out where he could see them I walked slowly back to him. My mind was racing at all the possible things I could do to get that gun away from him. Studying the way he held it, it was clear this wasn't his first time with a gun.

"That's it. Little closer." I was ten feet from him now and my mind was still blank. Shit.

"What do you want?" My voice came out demanding and I could see it surprised him.

"What do you think I want?" He countered. The hand holding the gun dropped a bit but was still pointed at me. To rape me.

"Clearly not to kill me. Otherwise you would've shot me by now." He chuckled again.

"Wow, you're a feisty one." The man commented and I studied him closely again.

Along with his older complexion and balding head, he had tattoos. I'd need to identify him later on so I needed to find a tattoo that really stood out on him. He wore a dirty wife beater, and it showed he had multiple tattoos.

The first one to draw my attention was at the base of his neck, a Swastika and then written down his left bicep said NORDS. Gang member. Clearly this man was a fucked up individual, more so than what I originally thought.

"Get over here!" He grabbed for my wrists and I bashed the hand holding the gun down.

Throwing a punch, he'd anticipated it and I only skimmed his nose. The gun clattered to the ground and I kicked it into the street. He grabbed me by my hair and ripped my head backwards, causing me to practically bend over backwards. Temporarily disabling my defenses due to the sharp pain in my head.

"Damn you're definitely a SAMCRO whore." What? He thought I was apart of the Sons?!

"I have nothing to do with them!" I gasped as he jerked my head. I started to see spots. Shit.

"Well we will have to just wait and see about that, won't we?" He moved his face closer to me, his rancid breath invading my air.

Twisting my body quickly, my head ended up at his torso. The position caught him off guard; clearly he'd never messed with a woman who has fighting skills. I punched him quickly in the balls. He released me and crumpled to the ground, holding himself. Crossing my arms I stared down at him with disgust.

A rumbling noise had broken the night air along with headlights during the confrontation. They came so quick I wasn't able to react. Three Harleys pulled up and all three riders were off their bikes and hurrying to my side. I recognized them all but had no clue what their names were.

All three dressed in their usual dark clothes and leather vests. Two ran passed me and grabbed my assailant from off the ground. He tried to fight them off but knew he was no match. The third guy walked up next to me. Placing a gentle, gloved hand on my lower back, he broke my focus on my assailant. The biker friends were now punching my attacker in the gut and questioning him.

"You okay?" A deep raspy voice asked.

Moving my eyes to him I took him in. Long, blond hair hung down around his face, curling slightly up at the ends. Bright colored eyes, even in the dim street lighting stared back into my eyes. They were full of sincere concern. This guy had an overall gentle appearance.