Sara Grace Winston and Herman Kozik had met on the road before he moved permanently to Charming. She'd seen the kutte and introduced herself against her best judgement. "Where you from that you know the reaper?" He had asked when she told him he had a nice decal on his Dyna.
"Charming, born and raised." She had laughed.
He'd laughed too, one hand on the handlebars of his bike the other at his belt. If she was from Charming she knew the reaper damn well. She thought he was cute, if a bit rough. His hair needed work, but his eyes lit up when he smiled and his laugh was the kind that made you feel good just hearing it.
"How come you so far from home darling?"
"How I make a living don't really work if I stay in a small town." She answered his next question before he even asked it. "I'm a boxer."
He whistled lowly. "Boxer from Charming, you don't happen to know an old son of a bitch named Tig?"
"My old man's part of SAMCRO, course I know Tig." She answered with a tone that assured him she knew Tig Trager and his exploits plenty. His smile seemed to falter a bit.
"So you know the reaper. Damn girl."
"I'm guessing you're from Tacoma?" She said, point to his patches.
"Yeah, sergeant at arms." he paused a bit and added. "Can't believe you let that pretty face get beat up."
Sara Grace shrugged. "Can't do much else, rather get beat up than lick somebody's shoes."
"I get that. Can I get a name darlin'?"
She was a bit worried about that part and pondered whether or not to give him her last name. "Sara Grace, what about you?"
"Kozik. Where you headed Sara Grace?" he asked.
"A roadhouse about sixty miles up the highway. They got a cage set up, I'm hoping to make a fair bit of money."
"Shit darlin' . Thought you said you were a boxer."
Sara grinned at Kozik. "I do a bit of everything."
"You want some company? I'm headed that way." Kozik asked with a bit of hesitation. For all his bluff and bluster he was kinda shy. It was cute.
"Alright. Just don't swerve too much or I'll leave you in the dust."
"Hey, I can handle my own bike."
"Easy cowboy, just teasing."
A smile hadn't left either for their faces the whole time they were talking. She'd heard Kozik's name before, usually followed by Tig snorting in disgust and leaving the room. Piney said once that he was good people, and Sara Grace figured it took a certain kinda person to gain Tig's affection.
Herman Kozik didn't know any of the SAMCRO brothers had a daughter Sara Grace's age. She must've been at least in her early 20's. Blonde, so there wasn't a chance she was Tig's kid, much to his relief. Maybe one of Otto's or Lenny's. She was fucking cute, all short and stacked. Not really what he went for usually, but she had something different and he liked it.
"You wanna take off?" she asked with that ever present smile.
Maybe it was that smile. Whatever it was, he had sixty miles of it before they'd split ways.
"Up 395?"
"Yeah, right off the highway."
"You got it doll."
Sara Grace was starting to like Kozik, even if she was a bit wary of him being a Son. If her dad or brother caught wind of any of this, she wasn't really sure what they would do. On one hand, they'd be glad one of their brothers was looking out for her, but judging by the way Kozik was looking at her and the way she was looking at him, that happiness might not be very long lived. She didn't plan on doing anything about whatever they had just started, but the night was still young. It had been a long time since someone had grabbed her attention like Kozik had. A part of her was screaming to slow her dumb ass down by a few hundred miles an hour, but as she swung her leg over her bike and started the engine that part got drowned out real quick.
They peeled out of the parking lot of the gas station. Her 1993 Sportster wasn't a speed demon, so she let him take point. All the Sons, at least the younger ones, loved their Dynas and Kozik was no exception. She was too small to handle one, so her father got her the 93 883 XL for high school graduation. Piney had looked ridiculous pulling into Teller-Morrow on it, all 6' 3" of him cramped up, his knees practically up to his eyeballs. Sara Grace loved her bike, as tiny as it was, and was ready to bite the head off of anyone who started in on the Sport's suspension problems. It had its flaws but it was her's damnit.
Kozik was right, he could handle his bike just fine, and looked damn fine doing it. She wasn't one to ride bitch but it was starting to have its appeal. He was a big guy, with shoulders wide enough to build a house on, and an easy going smile that could very well pull her into something more than just having his company.
She was due at the roadhouse at 10, it was around 7 and the sun had begun to set. Sara Grace had hoped to get there early, get a feel for the place before deciding whether or not to commit. Kozik had let her pass him a few miles back, giving her the open road. She lived for this, the big sky, the constant motion. It was something her and Ope could agree on, that being on the road was the best feeling in the world.
The difference between her and her brother was that as much Ope loved the open road, he was a homebody through and through. She was too much like their mother to settle down for too long. Or maybe it was their father. Piney might have stayed in Charming but he was always running in his own way. Mostly through bottles of tequila and croweaters. He wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last, but he had tried his best to raise her and Ope. It wasn't much of a surprise when she took off, but she knew it hurt Pops just the same. She could never tell if Pie was okay with it or not.
He'd been locked up for three years now. Her mother complained during their last conversation that at least she knew where one of her children was at all times. After several reminders that she was, in fact, a grown adult, they had hung up on each other.
"Hey, you eat yet?" Kozik yelled over the rush of noise from the highway. She shook her head no and pointed to one of the exit signs. Kozik nodded in agreement and turned on his blinker. They pulled into a diner in Redding. The sun had gone down, and the lit windows and indoor heating were a welcome break from the road. It was cold for October in California. They got two seats at the counter, and Sara Grace was glad for the chance to stretch out her back.
She ordered coffee, while Kozik turned down their waitress with an "I'm good darlin'".
"What's with Sons and calling everyone darling?" Sara asked as she stirred two creamers into her coffee. "My dad, my brother, my uncles. Everyone says darling like it's the wild wild west."
"You gotta problem with it darlin?" Kozik said with a shit-eating grin.
She just narrowed her eyes at him and flicked a few drops of coffee off her spoon at him.
"What are you? Twelve?" He teased, putting his hands up to shield his face.
"Maybe." She said, sticking her tongue out at him.
She was always weird before fights. Always jittery and quick tempered. Probably wasn't the best mood for her to try to flirt with somebody in, as she knew from prior experience. It took a certain kind of guy to get along with her, and most of them thought she was just downright strange. She tucked her hair back behind her ears and waited for the awkward silence to fall, staring intently at the scuffed up toes of her boots.
Something hit the side of her head.
Kozik had blown a straw wrapper and nailed her.
She scrunched up her nose at him and laughed. "Who's the twelve year now?"
"I'm all man baby, don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure, Kozik. Keep lyin to yourself, cuz that's the only person you'll fool." She leaned her elbow on the counter and rested one of her cheeks against her fist.
"Ouch darlin, that one hurt." He grinned. She was just getting cuter and cuter.
"You wanna band-aid?" Sara Grace asked snarkily as their waitress came back to take their order.
A big plate of food was never a good idea before a cage fight. A few too many blows to the stomach that resulted in her blowing chunks in the middle of a fight had drilled that lesson in hard. She got a bowl of soup and a glass of water. Kozik ordered a burger and fries.
The radio was playing off in the background, some local yacht rock station that her dad would've loved to hate. Not the kinda shit you wanted to listen to before you're supposed to go kick someone's face.
"How much they payin' you for the match?" Kozik asked curiously. The only bar fights he'd been involved in hadn't had much payout besides a few black eyes.
"Fifty bucks a round, plus four hundred if I win. Eight hundred if I win two, but I don't know if I'm gonna do it. Thought I'd check it out first, see the level of sleaze I'd be dealing with."
"That's smart." He said with a nod. "Is it just a cage fight, or MMA?"
She laughed with a twisted smile. "Don't think it'll get that sophisticated, Kozik. Pretty sure they just want to see a bunch scantily clad women beat on each other so they don't have to make the effort."
"Easy money for you then, if you been beatin' on old Tiggy for years." The way he said Tiggy proved that there was little love lost between the two of them.
"That's the idea." She conceded. If they were just looking for amateurs, it wouldn't be the fairest thing in the world, but she needed the cash.
There was the rumble of three more motorcycles pulling into the parking lot and Kozik's shoulders tensed immediately, hand going to the knife on his hip. They were wearing Harley gear, but no kuttes, and he relaxed with a sigh.
Sara Grace quirked an eyebrow at him for an explanation.
"The Mayans have been getting restless lately, pushing in on more of the Sons' territory."
Sara had got a call from Jax Teller a few months ago saying just as much, with a few more caveats that she was sure had come from his mother.
"Good thing you found me then, eh?"
The Mayans weren't stupid, they would know who she was if they ran into her.
Kozik solemnly put a hand over his heart. "I'm here to protect and serve darlin."
She smacked his arm with a smirk. "I've been doing just fine out here for years, I'll have you know."
"I don't doubt it darlin'."
"But thanks for coming along." Sara added sincerely. "It's been awhile since I traveled with somebody, forgot what it was like to share the road."
It might've just been her imagination, but his cheeks got a little red as he smiled. "Anytime."
They ate and headed out again, Sara up front this time. They were pretty close to the roadhouse and she didn't want to miss it. She hadn't asked Kozik if he was going to stick around or take off and was beginning to wish she had. The miles wore on and they pulled into the gravel drive of the roadhouse by a quarter after 9. Kozik parked his bike right next to her and followed her in. Sara Grace looked at him curiously but didn't say anything.
It was dark, and noisy, and crowded, like every other roadhouse in existence. The cage was set up where there normally would've been a dance floor, just a couple pieces of ten foot tall chain link fence thrown together. The floor was covered in cheap gymnastic mats that looked worse for wear. The whole thing was lit with a combination of Christmas lights and the flood lights used at construction sites.
"Swanky place you got, doll."
She smacked his arm again, and tried to make her way to the bar through the crowd. Kozik muscled her a bar stool, his bulk preventing them from getting crushed by the flood of humanity that came flowing in and out of the front and back doors. He ordered a beer and asked if she wanted one. She shook her head no and zipped up her jacket a bit more. Once she was in the cage nothing would be left to the imagination, but for now she'd had enough leering.
She'd be considered "curvy" by whoever the hell made up those classifications, with muscled thighs and a working-class-pretty face. Blue eyes, broad freckled cheeks and an Irish button nose thanks to Piney. Her and Opie had the same eyes and the same smile, but after that they were night and day.
"You gonna fight?" Kozik asked over the din.
"Yeah, it's not too bad, and I need the cash. You sticking around?" Sara Grace asked him, trying to not sound too hopeful.
Kozik gave her a smirk. "Maybe." He drank more of his beer. "Might just want to see what those little fists of yours can do."
"They'll bust your teeth if you don't watch yourself." Sara told him, half-joking half-serious.
She'd been told her life she was too little, too weak, too much of a woman, not enough of a woman her whole damn life. She was getting pretty sick of it. It was the reason she took up boxing in the first place, but she was coming to the realization that it didn't matter how many punches she landed or how many she could take, the world would see her the same damn way.
"Easy doll, didn't mean to offend. I do really want to see you fight." He said leaning closer so he wouldn't have to yell over the rowdy men and blaring hair metal. She relaxed a little on her barstool and opened her hand for his beer. He gave it to her, a bit surprised by her venom. Sara took a swig and handed it back to him with a sigh.
"Sorry. I get weird before a fight. I didn't mean to bite your head off." She said quietly, spinning one of the rings off her fingers on the bartop.
"Hey, it's all good. I get it." He shrugged easily, taking another draw from his beer.
"It's really the only thing I'm good at, so when people doubt it, I get- snarly." She rushed out as an explanation.
Kozik doubted it was the only thing she was good at, at least she sure as hell wasn't stupid.
"I felt the same way after I got out of the Army. Probably why I found the Sons so easy." He left out the three year cocaine bender and his overdose. He was still ashamed of what he had done, and kept it so close to his chest that only Happy fully knew what went on. Kozik wondered if he could tell her for a moment, but shut that thought down quick. He didn't even know if he'd see her again after tonight.
"Who're you supposed to met?" Kozik asked, happy to change the subject.
"Old geezer with a mustache." She said, glancing around the barroom, trying to find the guy who'd come up to her outside the gym a few days ago with a flyer.
"That's half the dudes in here." Kozik laughed, beckoning to the barkeep for another.
"Said he'd be over by the dart board."
There were a couple of men hanging around over there, and a few women who all looked young and eager.
"I got him, now watch and learn." Sara said with a wry smile, hopping off the bar stool.
Herman took her seat and watched her cross over, unzipping her jacket and pulling her hair out of its tie before starting to chat up an old guy in a red plaid shirt and dirty green cap. She came back after a few minutes, and started taking things out of her pockets and handing them to him. One small knife, a wallet, two lighters and a pack of cigarettes along with her keys.
"I've got a match in fifteen minutes." She told him, taking the four silver rings off of her fingers and slipping them all onto his left pinky. "You lose those-"
"I won't, promise." He said reassuringly.
She reached back into her waistband and pulled out a wicked looking folding knife and gave it to him. It was military issue from before he enlisted.
"Same with that." Sara said with a seriousness that was new to their interactions.
"Who you up against, slugger?" Kozik asked, tucking the knife into his belt.
"Brunette in the exercise gear. Apparently she's some kind of wannabe WWE diva."
He could see exactly who she was talking about. The woman was wearing a lime green sports bra and tiny spandex shorts that made her tan look orange. She was taller than Sara by a few inches, but skinnier. Not that Sara was fat, she was just solid. And had more ass. A significant amount of ass.
She checked her pockets one more time just to make sure. People had a tendency to go through your shit when you left it alone somewhere in a skeezy bar.
"Good luck, doll."
"Thanks, cowboy." She said with a wink, exhaling fully before turning and heading towards the back of the bar where a few benches had been set up. She took her jacket off and stripped out of her shirt, before toeing her boots of and taking off her socks. Once everything was neat and folded she started stretching. Arms first, back, then legs.
Ed, the guy who gave her the flyer, yelled out that it'd be ten minutes until the first fight, and the crowd started to get antsy, lining up in front of the cage, grabbing beers before the action started, and jostling for the best view.
She took a roll of medical tape from the bench and began to wrap her knuckles and wrists. It'd make grappling harder, but she could deal with that. A broken finger and she wouldn't be able to ride home.
3 minute rounds, fifty bucks a round, she needed to last thirty minutes to pay the rent, plus the four hundred if she won. That money would go towards things like food, and her medical bills from the last set of broken ribs. The shifts she picked up bartending in Westwood would hopefully let her have a little security after this shit was done.
Her opponent was over on the other side of the cage at her own bench, chatting up one of the spectators in an Ed Hardy tee shirt and fake tan.
"Hey, sugar tits! You gonna get in a little catfight? You gonna pull her hair?" Someone yelled out of the crowd. Sara ignored him, and focused on getting the tape right on her left wrist. It was a bit tight, so she unwound it and did it again.
Kozik watched her from the bar, intrigued in the change of demeanor that seemed to happen in seconds. Her brow was furrowed with concentration, completely blocking out the outside world and everyone in it. In a black sports bra and jeans she looked ferocious instead of cute. Gone was the easy smile, replaced with a tight line of focus, as she fidgeted with the tape around her wrists and knuckles, before starting to braid her hair back.
The man from before shouted out that there was two minutes before the fight would start, and Kozik moved to get a better view of the cage. She stretched out her back again, focusing on the left side before pulling her arms across her body a few times and stepping into place at one end of the cage. The brunette took her place on the opposite end and the announcer started counting down, two men ready at each door.
Sara was bouncing from foot to foot, shaking out her shoulders.
The announcer reached zero and the doors sprung open. Sara flew into the cage like a bat out of hell and tackled the brunette by the shoulders, swinging her body up and around so that she was knocked off balance and her head bounced off the floor. Sara let go and backed up to the edge of the cage just as she hit the ground, fists up, feet moving her around the perimeter as the brunette got to her feet quickly and swung at Sara's face. She ducked, and let the brunette's momentum take her into the fencing, turning and jabbing at her ribs quickly before darting away.
The crowd started jeering as the fight continued. The brunette, the announcer said her name was Diana, managed to get a few nice hits off on Sara's face, and her eyebrow was freely bleeding, along with one side of her mouth. The brunette had suffered a quick succession of heavy blows to her stomach and sides, and a cruel elbow to the face when she had doubled over.
Five rounds in, something changed in Sara's pace. Instead of a quick flurry of blows and then darting away, she started landing hit after hit in an unrelenting, steady motion, driving the brunette to fence again.
Things were looking up until she landed a haymaker to Sara's ribs on her left side. Sara crumpled over backwards, and the brunette pressed her advantage, planting a knee on either side of her torso and pummeling Sara's face.
Kozik was yelling himself hoarse.
Sara managed to get her arms up to protect her face and drove her knee into brunette's crotch, causing her to topple forward into an awkward position where her stomach was smothering Sara's face. She grappled the brunette and flipped her over, pinning her down with one shin on her neck while she wrenched one of her legs forward in a hold.
Sara kept pulling the girl's leg in a more and more painful angle until she finally hit the mat twice with her hand and tapped out.
Sara got to her feet a little shakily and let her arm be raised up by Ed as he declared her the first winner of the night. Her eyebrow was now bleeding heavily enough to make seeing difficult out of her right eye, and her ribs were screaming. She ran her tongue over her gums to check for any missing teeth, and relieved spat out the blood that had been tainting her mouth.
Ed led her out of the cage, while her opponent was helped up by the two men manning the cage doors.
Kozik hurried over with a bar rag he had managed to snag. She grinned up at him with a bloody mouth.
"How'd I do cowboy?" She asked a little thickly and out of breath.
"C'mon, doll, let's get you outside." He said quietly, guiding her out into the cool night air of the back patio. Herman mopped up her eyebrow with the rag and started on the stream coming out of her mouth. She stood patiently as he turned her face back and forth in the light, seeing if she was concussed.
After the he had made sure she was still all there he let out a whistle that grew into a laugh.
"Shiitt girl, you can deal out some hurt!" His teeth flashed in the hazy light of the bar's outdoor lanterns.
Sara started to laugh along, until her ribs gave a spike of pain and her breath caught short. Her hand flew to her side, and she started feeling out if any of them had busted again.
"What's wrong with your side?" Herman asked, concerned. His big hand went to cover her's, but she hissed and he backed off. She turned away from him and leaned her other arm on the railing of deck. It took a few breaths to get the pain down to a manageable level.
"I got my ribs broken in Reno a few months ago, they're still tender." She explained, turning to leaning her back up against the railing. Her right hand was still on her side.
He wanted to smack her upside the head.
"What the hell are you doing in the ring if your ribs are still mending!?"
She looked at him levelly. "Paying the bills."
All he could do was shake his head. "You're crazy." Herman told her, trying to keep the laugh out of his voice. She shrugged with one arm and a red-tinted smile. A black eye was starting to bloom, and there were a few nasty yellowing bruises on her jaw and forehead.
"Can't believe you let that pretty face get beat to shit." He repeated quietly, swiping away a little blood from her eyebrow again, one hand holding her jaw.
Sara calculated for a second and then took a risk.
"Maybe it's to get a handsome cowboy to come clean me up." She told him, looking him in the eye and hoping she wasn't being an idiot for the thousandth time in her life. The sweat off her skin was starting to cool down in the October air, causing her to shiver. That was it, the air, that was what was making her shiver, and not the way Kozik's lips were getting closer and closer to hers.
He kissed her, gentle and soft, trying to not brush up against her bruises or hurt her jaw. The fingers of her left hand curled around one side of his kutte, pulling him forward slowly, until their chests were touching, and he had to lean down in order to kiss her, and she was up on her toes.
When they pulled back she was grinning like a loon. "Hope that wasn't too bloody."
He shook his head, beaming right back at her. Herman had tasted iron when he kissed her, but he liked it, liked that she was rough and tumble, liked that she gave it out as good as she took it.
"Can I take a look at those ribs?" He asked.
"If it'll ease your mind, Nursemaid Kozik." Sara smirked.