“Blue-eyed boys always get me in trouble,” she said in a sultry tone with an equally sultry smile.

 I smiled as I looked into those warm brown Latina eyes, so soft yet full of mischief. “I’ll be back in a sec guys,” said Tracy as she got up from the table and headed towards the lady’s room.

“Jack,” said Mike, the cook I was relieving, “you need to be careful with Tracy, “her name used to be Tommy.”

“I know Mike,” I replied, “we met last night.”

Yes, that was when I met Tracy. I had worked the evening shift at the truckstop and as I walked home through the park, I overheard an argument coming from a wooded area. I decided to investigate and soon saw a big guy standing over a woman that was trying to get up off the ground.

“I’m gonna mess you up bad you faggy bitch,” he roared as he grabbed a handful of her blouse to pull her up by while he drew back to strike her. Without thinking, I launched myself forward and grabbed his fist with one hand, jerking him back. As he spun toward me with a snarl, I drove the heel of my palm into his nose as hard as I could. He fell backwards with a thud and I quickly kicked him in the nuts for good measure. He groaned loudly and curled up into a ball as I turned to help the lady up. As I helped her brush off her clothes, she thanked me profusely. Turning as I heard a rustling behind me, I saw the man on his hands and knees, attempting to get up. Again I didn’t think, simply reacted and kicked his blood splattered face hard, putting him down for the count.

“Is he dead?” she asked when she saw no movement from his sprawled body.

“No,” I replied, “but he’ll have one hell of a headache when he comes to later. By the way, I’m Jack.”

“I’m Tracy, Jack, and I am so glad that you came along when you did. I sure picked up a bad one this time.”

“I guess he thought he had found some free pussy, judging from what I heard. Are you going to be all right?” I asked.

“Sure,” she replied, “can I give you a ride somewhere?”

I accepted, and as we drove out of the park in her Lexus. She asked if I minded stopping at her place for a drink to calm her nerves.

“I wouldn’t mind having a drink or two myself,” I agreed with a smile. “Do you often have trouble with the guys you pick up Tracy?” I asked as she mixed us each a double screwdriver.

“No, this is the first time in quite a while,” she replied as she handed me a drink, “almost everyone at the bar I go to knows what I am. I usually pick up guys that want to be sucked, sometimes more. They can be mean sometimes but rarely try to hurt me.”

As I sipped my drink, she sat down on the sofa near me. We chatted about