The BlackLight

Rated M

Romance x Horror x Hurt&Comfort

Adopted by : hotmess4evr330

Summary : Patricia 'Tricia' Berkowitz stumbled through the darkness with designed blacklight face paint smeared on her face, losing her way from a rough past involving family that she barely escaped with her life. Sent on a task to get ink for her second job as a tattoo artist, It may just be fate that drew the badass, lost woman into the arms of the 'Tacoma Killer' when her car breaks down.

Happy x OC

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Tricia Berkowitz - a curvy, long chestnut haired beauty - stood behind the counter of a bar, nodding her head along to the beat of the music pulsating through the bar, sighing in boredom as she watched her coworker, Nikki. The dyed blond was an annoying picture of professionalism for someone who worked in a bar, Tricia's eyes caught the shake of Nikki's head, the sarcastic roll of her dark eyes while pouring some vodka into a glass of coke before pushing past Tricia roughly and making her way into the back.

Tricia ignored her bad attitude and completely absorbed in listening to the music pounding through the speakers, mouthing the familiar song playfully, before attention was diverted as a handsome, muscular guy sat down in front her with a cocky smile on his chiseled face, his baby blues were both beautiful and conceited.

Resisting the urge to shake her head, Tricia turned to the guy with forced politeness and while her voice polite while her words were anything but, "You want something?"

The man's eyes moved up and down her curvy body from his spot of leaning on the bar that was wrapped in her dark skin tight pants, heeled boots, and a dark gray top that was covered by her black apron - blatantly checking her out. "Yea, I definitely see something I want."

He commented while Tricia raised her eyebrows, like she hadn't heard that before. She rolled eye bright green eyes that had tints of silver in them and moved her hair out of her face before clarifying with annoyance, "To drink."

"Oh," The man said with a smile as if he just remembered why he was here, nodding his head and looking as if he had no idea what to order at a bar. "..to drink. Right, I'll have a beer on tap. Thanks, doll."

Tricia's jaw clenched in unison with her eye twitching at his words. She hated guys like him, who thought that just because that they had a 'drool worthy body' and oozed charm that they were irresistible and could do, say, or get whatever they wanted. Just like the guy sitting in front of her, watching her like a predator waiting for the perfect time to pounce on it's prey for the kill shot.

"My name's Ryan, by the way. Ryan Jameson." He told her, the cocky smile not leaving his face while Tricia dropped the mug of beer down in front of him with a tense smile, swallowing her sarcastic answer that he wasn't James Bond and if he was lucky he would go running home and donate them to someone else who could perfect that type of way to introduce themselves.

"I didn't ask." Tricia responded with disinterest, hoping that Ryan Jameson would take the hint and fuck off.

"What's your name?" Ryan asked, sipping the beer and looking at her with a glint in his eyes that made her skin crawl, sitting back on the stool trying to be cool. Tricia prayed he fell hard on his ass as she spoke.

"Kiss my ass." Tricia said offhandedly, picking up a rag from under the bar to wipe down what little space on the busy counter she could, to help out the janitor so he wouldn't have a huge sticky mess to clean up after hours.

"Well, 'Kiss My Ass', would it be too forward of me to ask what time you get off work?" Ryan inquired with a charming smile, and it made Tricia wonder just how many hours he stood in the mirror while trying to prefect it.

"It was too forward of you to ask my name." Tricia responded curtly, glaring at him darkly while three mens that appeared to be his friends whooped loudly and came over to the bar to sit beside him. Sighing tiredly at the sight of the new three obviously drunk frat boy looking guys, Tricia moved over towards them, waiting for an order. They had the same gorgeous golden boy looks and defined muscles as Ryan as well as the same carefree attitude and arrogance of someone who knows how good they look and are used to it getting them whatever they wanted.

However, Tricia wasn't the kind of girl that they were used to. She wasn't a naïve sorority chick who'd put out for any pretty boy who asked simply because of his stunning looks and Daddy's money. Tricia had seen more in her short twenty-four years than these boys their future blond bimbo society wives would in their whole lives. These boys and their looks did absolutely nothing for her.

"Hey, baby, three large buds." One of the guys demanded before turning back to Ryan. Rolling her eyes, Tricia grabbed the Buds and opened them before dropping them onto the bar in front of the three boys who obviously didn't need anymore alcohol in their systems. "Thanks sugar," the man said with a wink while she resisted the urge to gag.

"Fine piece of ass, huh? You tryin' to tap that bitch, Ry?" Another guy asked as if Tricia wasn't standing right there at the bar, making her clench her teeth as she mentally repeated to herself that spilling alcohol on the heads will no doubt make their smug faces disappear but at the cost of her job.

"I don't try, Luke. I do." Ryan responded arrogantly, making the other guys laugh.

"Not funny," Tricia murmured under her breath. This, my dear friends, is why she was single! You show her a person that would treat her right and she would be happy – er, semi-happy at least..

"Yeah, we all know Ryan'll get lucky tonight. No pussy can resist him." The third guy said with a grin.

"Please, anyone can land a girl like her." Luke said to his friends while Tricia's hands curled into fists, but she didn't say anything, trying to hold her temper together.

"Nah, you couldn't Luke. Even a prostitute would refuse to have sex with you. Repulsive little pussy!" The first guy laughed while Luke just rolled his eyes and looked to Tricia.

"Yo, Honey! C'mere a second, baby." Luke called while the other guys laughed, shaking their heads. Tricia squared her shoulders and walked towards them, crossing her arms across her chest, "You feel like fuckin' a real man tonight?"

Tricia let a small smile play over her lips, "Sure, tell me when you find one."

His boys ooh'ed at him while Luke just narrowed his eyes at Tricia, "You ain't ever had a real man until you've had me."

"Big talk.. Overcompensating for something?" Tricia asked innocently, trying and failing to keep her full lips from smirking.

"Listen here bitch, don't insult me because you're a lousy lay. I'll show you the ropes, if you want." Luke commented hotly while his drunk buddies snickered.

"Do you even know what a real orgasm sounds like? 'cause I can bet that the girls you fuck don't leave you satisfied. How much you want to bet that your buddies satisfy them after your abysmal attempt at sex?" Tricia snapped going to grab one of his friend's empty bottles and Luke took the opportunity to grasp her wrist in a hard grip just as Nikki and the new bouncer on shift, Julian, walked into the room.

They froze, waiting and watching as Tricia looked at Luke with contempt, and anger. It wasn't a mystery that Tricia wasn't know for her endless patience. "Shut the fuck up, bitch. I think you need a man to show you your place."

"Oh yeah?"Tricia spat at him while his friend's faces began to sober up, at her tone. "And where would that be?"

"Under a man." Luke spat at her, his hold on her wrist tightening impossibly harder.

Tricia narrowed her eyes at him until they were slits. "You sexist bastard. You're not even a real man." She hissed at him as she leaned forward on the bar to get in his face which became red while fury lit his eyes. Tricia could feel that something was about to go down. She steeled herself, flight or fight defenses kicking in and if he swung at her- Julian hollered at the man and Nikki even crossed her arms and glared at the drunk asshole.

"Hey man, tone it down. Don't want to do something that you're gonna regret.." Ryan said, intercepting his friend and prying his hand off of Tricia's wrist. Taking it back quickly, she rubbed the bruised wrist and watched impassively as Ryan pushed Luke to his other two friends who'd stood up and sobered up, obviously sensing the seriousness of the situation.

"You're drunk. Go home and walk away." She doubted this was the first time Luke had pulled something like this as Ryan said that with ease, Luke gave one last glare to Tricia just as Julian and Nikki flanked her before stumbling out of the bar, his two friends supporting him.

"You okay?" Julian asked worriedly as he tilted her chin up to look at him. Julian Thomas was a huge and burly man with a buzz cut and a love of tight, fitted shirts that was only nineteen, almost twenty, and had just returned home from the military. He was also like the little brother Tricia had always wanted, protective but also very perceptive, not interfering in anyone's business unless absolutely necessary.

"I'm fine Jules." Tricia said to him casually, barely shaken up by the meeting. It wasn't the first time a customer—let alone a person in general—had gotten rough with her, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She'd had worse than what that drunk, sexist asshole had thrown at her. Just ask her parents.

"Give me his name and I'll put him on the list." Julian ordered Tricia, who sighed knowing that he was more than just protective of Tricia alone, but of everyone who worked in the club. After all, everyone there was like a giant family. They'd all grown up together, were a family since they'd all been born and raised in Charming, California. A small town where most people knew each other, or at least had heard of each other but Tricia felt like an outsider, a new resident from Los Angeles with a tough as nails attitude and sarcasm flowing through her very pore.

"Luke Carmichael." Ryan told Julian before turning to address the three of them, Tricia in particular. "Hey look, I'm sorry about Luke, he just gets a little rowdy when he gets drunk."

"Just keep him out of here." Julian responded sharply, walking away as he continued, going to give the bouncer at the door Luke's name. "I don't want anyone getting hurt."

"I agree with Julian. I don't want to see that no good frat boy around here again." Nikki hissed at Ryan, before moving to the other side of the bar.

Tricia rolled her eyes and turned to Ryan, just maybe she was wrong about him at first, "Don't sweat it. I've had worse that a drunk frat boy grabbing my wrist and telling me that I'm meant to be submissive. There have definitely been worse drunks come through here."

"Anyway, are you sure that you don't want to…talk to me after you get off?" Ryan asked with a charming smile, making Tricia raise an eyebrow at him, glance at the clock before grinning and pulling off her apron.

"Sure." She said with a seductive smile, giving in and taking and chance, "Let's talk."

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The next morning, Tricia woke up with a pounding in her head and a naked, muscular man sprawled out next to her in bed. "Shit." she mumbled, hopping out of the bed and over to the shower. Quickly, she showered and dressed in jean ripped shorts that showed off her long tanned legs, black tank top with matching flip flops , brushing her long chestnut locks into smooth waves as opposed to the angry mass of knots that they'd been before.

Throwing a black fedora onto her head, she sauntered to the kitchen to where the coffee pot had filled itself as usual, since it was on a daily timer. Grinning, she sipped the liquid before walking into her room where Ryan still laid across her before snoring lightly and sleeping deeply and peacefully. "Okay, up, out, you've gotta go." Tricia said loudly, yanking the curtains open so that the sunlight spilled onto Ryan's face. He groaned while she hit him on the back hard. "Come on, up and out." Tricia said, reaching down and tossing his clothes at him as he slowly came awake.

"What the hell?" Ryan muttered, clutching his head and looking around the room before settling on Tricia who kept tossing clothes at him. "Tricia?" He inquired while she rolled her eyes and set her coffee down, turning to look around the room. Seeing no signs of his presence except for his body, she nodded, satisfied and turned back to look expectantly at Ryan, waiting for him to get the hint. "Jesus Christ, Tricia, it's like ten in the morning."

Tricia rolled her eyes as her eyebrow twitched in annoyance, "Duh, some of us have jobs, frat boy. Like me, so you've gotta go. Now, before my roommates wake up and see you. They're seriously getting tired of me bringing guys back to the house. Though, I personally think that they're only upset because neither of them have gotten screwed lately."

Tricia shrugged, looking far off for a second in contemplating thought before looking at him, "C'est lavie. Now, get dressed and get out." Ryan raised his eyebrows in annoyance but complied, pulling on his clothes and pushed him out of her bedroom, handing him a cup of coffee in a to go cup that they kept handy before leading him to the front door and leaving him on the doorstep of her building.

Ryan stopped just outside the door, turning to face her inquiring with a small smile, "So, can I see you again?" Ryan inquired with a small smile.

"I don't think so." Tricia shook her head, slamming the door in his face, and turning around with a sigh of relief just as one of her roommates entered the room.

"Hey!" Rhiannon Ketchiri, a half-Irish, half-Swedish beauty with parents straight off of the boat, said lightly walking into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator to grab a yogurt. Seeing Tricia at the door, her brows came together in confusion. "Someone at the door?" Tricia glanced back in the door in surprise before shaking her head and dropping into a chair at the kitchen table.

Rhiannon was also everything that Tricia wasn't in both look and personality. Rhiannon had strawberry blond while Tricia had dark chestnut hair, Rhiannon was pale while Tricia was tan, willowy as opposed to curvy. Similarly, Rhiannon had a kind, light manner that made people want to befriend her instantly while Tricia had a temper with a mouth that alienated nearly everyone that she met. "How was your night?" Rhiannon inquired.

Tricia looked at her sharply but calmed down when she saw that it was an innocent question about her night bartending, and shrugged. "Uneventful."

"Morning bitches!" Their third roommate, Molly, called from down the hall. She skipped into the kitchen dressed for work in panty hose, a pencil skirt, and a chiffon top while her nest of copper-colored curls bounced around on her head. "How has everyone's morning been?"

"Fine," Tricia and Rhiannon answered together while Molly grinned. "Good." A knock came from the door, "I'll get it!" Molly said, hurrying over to the door while Tricia just rolled her eyes, dipping her finger in Rhiannon's cherry yogurt and licking it off her finger while Rhiannon just rolled her eyes.

"Who are you?" Molly asked while Tricia's eyes widened and she cursed, making Rhiannon look at her in confusion. "What?" Molly shrieked, making Tricia tense. "Patricia Hilary Berkowitz! Why the hell is there a man at the door asking if you have his boxers in your room?" Molly shrieked, looking like steam was about to come out of her ears.

Tricia blinked. "Um…I have no idea?" She tried, but seeing Molly's face, she knew that she couldn't successfully play that card. "Gee, would you look at the time! I gotta to go, see you this afternoon, bye!" Tricia called, grabbing a banana and her purse, pushing past Molly and Ryan and darting out the door.

"We will be discussing this later Patricia!" Molly screamed behind Tricia.

"Bye!" Tricia called back again unneeded, hopping into her ancient Cadillac and driving down the road, cursing the fact that she'd forgotten to check the bathroom for clothes.

Whoops..

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Charming Ink was a tiny little tattoo shop stuffed down a tiny side street off of the main road. Tricia figured that the locals were trying to down play any negative images of the little town, which wasn't easy since a motorcycle club called the Sons of Anarchy roamed the streets acting like they owned the town, which Rodney – Tricia's co-worker from her second job – swore vehemently that they did.

Still, the little tat shop had to be one of the favorite places that she'd ever worked in. She'd learned how to tattoo at fourteen, right around the time she'd gotten her first tattoo of beautiful angel wings on her back in memory of her little sister, done by her friend/lover – Mick – heavily tattooed business owner who owned both a piercing/tattooing place and had a lucrative back alley drug dealing business as well. Between tattooing and designing tats, Tricia had made enough money by sixteen to escape her shitty ass family and get her own place.

"I need someone to go down to the storage place and grab some extra ink." Tricia's boss and the store owner, J.D. said to her and Rodney as he walked out of his office.

"Not I!" Tricia and Rodney said at the same time.

J.D. rolled his brown eyes and looked between the two. "Fresh meat, you can go grab it."

"What is this? High school?" Tricia asked in a snarky tone while J.D. raised his eyebrows.

"Don't matter, since I'm signing your pay checks. Now, move your tight little ass. I don't want to run out." J.D. said before disappearing back into his office.

Tricia and Rodney glanced at each other, rolling their eyes as she grabbed her keys. "I'll be back soon." Tricia said to Rodney who shrugged and went back to texting his girlfriend, Sheila.

Sighing, Tricia hopped into her car and began the drive. It wasn't exactly a long drive, but it was annoying since he never ran out since the only customers they got were the occasional teens on their eighteenth birthdays getting tats they'd regret someday to feel like they were free from their parents and the occasional biker, never having enough customers to run out of ink and while the storage area might not be "far away" it was down a bumpy, abandoned road in the middle of nowhere to a large storage facility (the only one in Charming) called Uncle Sam's Storage , a stupid name, she knew very well, and was owned by a fifty year old perv named Samuel Truman who always tried to feel Tricia up when she went.. To top it off, her car always sounded like it would give out at any moment.

As her and her old clunker car drove down the bumpy road when suddenly she noticed smoke coming from the hood as the car slowly came to a stop. Cursing, Tricia got out of the car and walked to the front, opening the hood but letting it fall shut, coughing as the smoke flew into her face. "Shit!" She cursed, unsure of whether she should get back into the car and try to get to the storage facility or call a tow truck. Pausing with indecision, Tricia stared at the car before sighing and pulling out her cell to call the nearest garage.

"Hello, Teller-Morrow Auto Repair." The woman on the other line said in a bored tone of voice.

"Um…yeah, hi, I need to get my car towed." Tricia said sounding defeated.

"Where are you?" The woman asked. "Okay, someone will be out there to pick you up shortly." She said after Tricia told her before hanging up. Sighing, Tricia grabbed her bag out of the car and sat down on the ground, closing her eyes. She seriously needed a new ride as opposed to the ancient Cadillac, which had been her only inheritance from her deceased grandfather.

Sitting on the ground, Tricia grabbed a black stencil and her drawing pad out of her bag and began a tattoo sketch that exuded her mood when only ten minutes later, a tow truck pulled up behind her and two guys hopped out of the truck. One guy looked around twenty one with pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes who looked tiny and lanky next to the tall, burly lumber-jack looking guy beside him. He wore a black beanie and had a bushy brown beard and mustache.

"You need a tow?" The bigger guy asked.

"Yeah," Tricia said irritably. "Stupid car started smoking and just broke down." She said, getting to her feet and kicking the wheel. "I knew that I should have invested in something made this century."

"It is pretty old." The smaller guy commented.

"Enlightening." Tricia rolled her eyes watching as the bigger guy opened the hood and glanced around inside. "Is it fixable?" Tricia asked.

"Dunno." The burly guy said. "We'll have to take a closer look back at the garage. But if I had to guess, I'd say it might be pretty pricey. Looks like the whole engine might have blown. Unsurprising since your car's so-"

"Unreliable? Stupid? Bitchy?" Tricia offered with concealed sarcasm as she sighed, something she had been doing a lot lately.

"Ancient." The smaller guy with brown curly hair on top of his head that matched his beard supplied with a small smile.

The burly guy nodded as he stepped away from her car and instructed to smaller guy to drive the tow truck up in front of it so he could connect it, before turning the the woman, "Need a ride?" He offered Tricia, who nodded gratefully.

"Thanks," she smiled at him and offered a hand as she introduced herself, "I'm Tricia, by the way."

"I'm Opie," the burly guy said. "This is the prospect."

"He doesn't have a name?" She inquired with genuine curiosity, did they really not introduced their names until they were made members?

The prospect opened his mouth to respond when Opie shook his head. "Nope."

Tricia nodded, well that answered her question.. "Okay then.." she said, glancing back at the dejected prospect hooking up her car. Seeing that Tricia was looking at him he mouthed 'Miles'.

Grinning, she shrugged and nodded before hopping into the tow truck with knowing that these turn of events, and being helped by these people, would change her life for the better the worse.

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Hope you will review and let me know what you think? :)