Biker started pumping gas into crying girl’s car and she begged him to stop as her boyfriend would kill her. I was filling up my Harley at the station when I heard her panicked voice. “Please, sir, please don’t. He’ll think I asked you for help. He’ll get so angry.”
She was maybe nineteen or twenty. Blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Mascara running down her face. Standing next to a beat-up Honda with an empty gas tank, counting coins in her shaking hands. She had maybe three dollars in quarters and dimes.
I’d already put my credit card in her pump before I walked over. “It’s already going, sweetheart. Can’t stop it now.”
“You don’t understand.” Her voice dropped to a terrified whisper. “My boyfriend, he doesn’t like when people help me. He says it makes him look weak. He’s inside getting cigarettes and if he sees you—”

“How much does he usually let you put in?” I asked, watching the numbers climb on the pump.
Her face crumpled. “Whatever these coins buy. Usually about half a gallon. Enough to get home.”
I’m sixty-six years old. Been riding for forty-three years. Seen a lot of things. But something about this girl’s fear made my blood run cold. “Where’s home?”
“Forty miles from here.” She was crying harder now. “Please, you have to stop. He’s going to come out any second and he’s going to think I was flirting with you or asking for money or—”
The gas pump clicked off. I’d filled her tank completely. Forty-two dollars’ worth.
She stared at the numbers in horror. “Oh my God. Oh my God, what did you do? He’s going to kill me. He’s literally going to kill me.”
“Why would your boyfriend kill you for someone else putting gas in your car?” But I already knew the answer. I could see it in her eyes. In the way she kept glancing at the store entrance. In the bruises on her arms that she was trying to hide with her sleeves.
“You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s like when he’s mad.” She grabbed my arm. “Please, can you just leave? Right now? Before he sees you?”
“I’m not leaving you here, sweetheart.” She started backing away from me. “You’re making it worse. You’re making everything worse. He’s going to think I set this up. He’s going to think I wanted you to rescue me.”
“Did you want me to rescue you?” She opened her mouth to answer, but then her whole body went rigid. “He’s coming. Oh God, he’s coming. Please just go.”