The Tara Rockett Story

I've always wanted a female protagonist in the GTA series, but I doubt that's going to happen anytime soon. So I made my own female protagonist for this story.
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A custom built Harley Davidson motorcycle pulls into the dusty parking lot of the Yellow Jack inn, in the Grand Sanora desert. The people standing outside the inn, don't recognize the rider, who it is sure isn't a member of the local biker gang the Lost, because the Lost doesn't have any female members, nor do they let females ride their bikes. And unlike the old ladies of the Lost, this woman is healthy and is very attractive. As she shuts down the motor and let's the bike rest on the kick stand, everybody gets a better look at her when she gets off the motorcycle. She must be at least 5 foot 9 inches tall, with a curvy, toned body covered in a cropped white tank top, that fit to the every curve of her big, firm, perky, teardrop shaped 34DD tits, and her small waist, the cropped top shows off her toned, flat stomach, and the belly button ring she has on, as well as the snake tattoo, that was peeking out from the top of her jeans. She also wore a faded denim jacket with the sleeves cut off, to show off her muscle toned arms and the various tattoos she had on both arms. The pair of low cut, tight, faded, torn, blue jeans really sculpted her plump, round bubble butt, curvy hips and long, toned legs. The pair of black, scuffed up bike boots, really added to the tough as nails aura she was giving off. With her long, dark brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail, the pair of gold frame aviator sunglasses, and the glossy cherry color that her full, pouting, luscious lips are painted, she was definitely giving off the beautiful, but deadly look, that matches her confident walk, as she walk into the bar. She sit at the bar, taking off her shades, and putting them in her inside jacket pocket, finally letting people see her baby blue eyes, and the dark eyeliner. She orders a beer, a shot of whiskey, and a bacon cheeseburger with french fries, then she lights a cigarette, with her zippo lighter.
"Here's your lunch honey." The woman behind the bar said.
"Thank you." The mysterious woman said, as she puts her cigarette in the ash tray with the cherry still burning.
"What's your name, if you don't mind me askin?" The bartender said.
"Tara Rockett." The woman said, as she picked up the whiskey filled shot glass.
"You're not from around here, are you?" The bartender said, as she wipes off the bar with a rag. Tara brings the shot to her lips, and slams it down, she savors the burning sensation going down her throat, and welcomes the warmth it creates in her stomach.
"No." Tara said, as she turns the shot glass up side down, and sets it on the bar.
"Do you plan on staying?" The bartender said. Tara chases the whiskey with a drink of her beer, then picks up the fresh off the grill burger.
"That's the plan, but I need a place to live. I've been camping on the side of the road, all the way here, and I could use a good night's sleep on a bed." Tara said.
"Well there's a single wide trailer for rent, over in Sandy Shores. I'll give you the address and the phone number of the fella who's rentin the place." The bartender said, as she starts writing on her note pad. She tears off the note and hands it over to Tara.
"Thanks." Tara said, with a mouthful of burger.
"Just watch out for that crazy fool Trevor Phillips." The bartender said. Tara swallows the bit of burger, then eats a fry, and washes it down with a drink of beer, as she nods at the bartender's advice.
"And watch out for these guys too." The bartender said, as she looks outside as three motorcycles pull up, alongside Tara's.
"The Lost Motorcycle Club, nothing but a bunch of lowlife, scumbags. I don't which is worse, them or Trevor." The bartender said. Tara looks over her shoulder, and sees three guys dressed in black leather vests, worn out jeans and scuffed up boots. She could see the back patch that read Lost, as they approached the door, she could see the various patches on the front of their vests, Tara knew the meaning of the front patches, especially the 1% patch, it meant they were an outlaw motorcycle club, nothing she hasn't dealt with before. The yellow wing patches on two of the men, meant they both participated in group sex, probably group rape too, and all three had a red wing patches, that meant they all have killed for the club.
"You better get outta here before they take you apart." The bartender said.
"Don't worry about me." Tara said, as she took another bite of her burger.
The door opens as the biggest of bikers walks in, followed by his friends. The lead biker had a shaved head, and a long black beard with a hint of grey hair, that he braided like the vikings use to do, his face was showing the signs of years of smoking cigarettes, hard partying and hard drugs. His face may be showing age, but his body is still a mountain of muscle, covered by overlapping tattoos. The other two are younger, but still looking in good shape. Looking in the barroom mirror Tara could already see the signs of meth use, and the battle scars they wore on their arms.
"Now that is grade A piece of ass right there boys." The lead biker said, as he appeared Tara from behind.
"Fuck yeah she is. Hey there doll face, how about you come back to our place." The other biker said. Tara finishes her beer, and turns around on the stool, to look at the bikers. Tara looks as calm as she can be, as she lays some money on the bar, for the booze and food, plus a tip. Then she looks back at the bikers.
"I'd rather swim through hot garbage, than let you fucking scumbags touch me." Tara said. The big biker steps towards her, his heavy boots thump loudly on the floor, as he moves in. He looks down at her, like a grizzly bear looks at a deer.
"We weren't askin bitch." He said. Tara looks up at him like a wolf looks at the very same bear, and says.
"Mmm tempting big boy, but like I said before. And don't make me repeat myself, I really hate that."
As the biker goes to grab her by the arm, she grabs the empty beer bottle and smashes it over his head, and slices his face open with broken bottle neck. He stumbles back, growling in pain as blood runs down his face. One of the younger bikers reaches for his knife on his belt, Tara quickly jams the jagged bottle neck in his juggler, and breaks off a piece inside his wound, as blood gushes out and splatters on her arm. Tara drop kicks the dying biker, then runs passed him. She puts on her shades, then gets on her bike. The remaining bikers coke running out, just as she pops the clutch and peels out of the parking lot. The bikers get on their motorcycles and go after her. Tara looks in her mirrors and sees the bikers as they pull out onto the road, and start chasing her. She power slides onto a dirt road, just as bullets wiz by her head. Tara draws her Beretta 92fs 9mm pistol, and shoots back. Using her mirror, she aims and fires, hitting the front fork on the young biker's motorcycle, causing the front wheel to lock up, and throw him over the handle bars. With the threat weakened down to only one man, she holsters her pistol under her jeans vest. Tara slams on the brakes and whips the bike around, and takes off like a rocket straight towards the other biker. Both bikers drives towards each other, the big Lost biker smiles like a jackal as he aims his revolver at her head. Tara reaches down to her left side, and grabs the sawed off lever action shotgun, that's strapped to the bike, in a homemade scabbard. With a single shotgun blast, she blows the front tire of the big biker's motorcycle. His front wheel jack knifes, and sends him rolling through the dirt, as his bike tumbles passed him in a cloud of dust and wreckage. Tara rides up on her bike, she shuts down the motor before swinging off the seat, with the shotgun in her hand. The big biker is laying in the dirt, she can tell that his leg is broken, and that he might have a broken neck, after that crash. Tara ejects the spent shell and loads a fresh one, as she works the lever on the shotgun.
"Who the fuck are you?" The biker said as blood drips from his mouth, nose, and from a gash on his head.
"Tara Rockett." She said, as she approached the disabled biker.
"My boys are going to fuck you up! Believe me bitch, when they're done with your ass! You be able to walk normal for years, hell they'll probably sell you to one those cartel nutjobs down south!" He said.
"Sounds like fun, but I think I'll be the one fucking them. You assholes have no idea who you just fucked with." Tara said, as she lowers the shotgun on the biker's head.
"This is one of my favorite parts." She said, with a sadistic smile as she pulls the trigger, and scatters his head and brains across the dirt with a point blank shotgun blast. Tara gets back on her motorcycle, she holsters the shotgun, then lights a cigarette. She works the shifter pedal and she rides away from the crime scene. Tara looks at the note that the bartender gave her, and puts it away in her pocket. She rides out onto the highway, and heads for Sandy Shores. Tara is curious about this Trevor Phillips, she makes a mental note to speak to him once she's settled in.
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This is the introduction to my new story. I hope you guys like it as well as the character. Trust me Tara Rockett is definitely an interesting person, with some interesting skills. If you guy have any comments or suggestions, let me know in the review. Thanks for reading.