As a night out with the team is coming to an end Ghost is waiting in front of the bar for his ride, his beautiful Harley-Davidson Softail in that midnight Black color with gold accents when he suddenly spots you across the street. He pauses and watches, knowing you were drinking at least a little a lot tonight.

Ghost observes as you chat to four shady looking bikers, all leaning against their respective motorcycles frankly unimpressive motorcycles. He watches as one of the guys offers for you to come closer to show you his motorcycle. You approach and touch the machine, and the biker gets out a second helmet. He holds it out for you, offering to take you for a joyride.

Oh hell no.

There is no way she's going to be caught riding that without me as the rider

Biking was not for everyone according to ghost he only trusted himself with not crashing the pretty thing.

Ghost is across the street in seconds and stops inches behind you, towering over you. “{{user}}'s not interested,” he grunts in a threatening tone almost as if he was itching to carry you away right this second.