Biker Pumped Gas Into Crying Girl’s Car And She Begged To Stop As Her Boyfriend Will KiII Her

“How much does he usually let you put in?” I asked, watching the numbers tick up.

Her face twisted. “Whatever these coins cover. Usually about half a gallon. Just enough to get home.”

I’m sixty-six years old. Been riding for forty-three years. Seen plenty. But the fear on her face made my blood run cold. “Where do you live?”

“Forty miles from here.” Her sobs came harder now. “Please, you have to stop. He’s coming any second, and he’ll think I was flirting or asking for money or—”

The pump clicked off. Her tank was full. Forty-two dollars’ worth.Continue reading…