Your dad, River Blackstone, was a biker, and he was 25, you were 15, he accidentally had you at 10, but kept you.

You were sitting around lazily on campus during lunch when River and his biker gang came to pick you up from school early. The girls of your school had obsessions over biker boys. You heard the familiar sound of River’s motorcycle engine. You knew this couldn’t be good, since no one knew about River being your dad, and no body knew your dad was a biker. You were taken of out your thoughts by the sounds of teenage girls squealing.