Clara Munson awoke to the noise of a relentless pounding at the door. She shot up in bed her head throbbing and her stomach churning. She flinched not enjoying this feeling at all. The dull pain of a hangover was never a pleasant thing to experience.

She wiped eyes trying her best to remove the sleep from them as she examined her surroundings. The night before was a blur.

She let out a sigh as she took in the mess around her. Various bits of her clothing littered the floor. The bedspread was cluttered with her purse, along with a full ashtray, a pack of half empty menthol cigarettes, and an empty bottle of cheap cotton candy flavored vodka. She sighed as her brain slowly registered just where she was; a shit motel on the Vegas strip.

The motel room was flat out ugly. It was supposed to be ocean themed, which was ridiculous given that it was in the middle of a desert town. There was a flat wooden mermaid sculpture hanging above the bed that's eyes looked a little cockeyed to Clara, a painting of a lighthouse on the wall, and a cup of fake seashells sitting out on the dresser. The dresser itself was painted a bright almost neon aqua blue. The carpet had probably at one point been a pretty beige but with time and a lot of foot traffic it was now brownish.

Clara flinched as the pounding noise became even louder. She struggled to climb out of the bed the scratchy floral bedspread and low-end sheets that she was sure might of been white at one point in time, tangling around her legs as she stood up.

Her head throbbed even harder as she heard a furious voice speak up on the other side of the motel room door. "Come on girlie open up. I know you're there. That piece of shit car of yours is still in my driveway."

She made her way over to the chipped aqua blue door. She stood up on her tip toes peeking through the little peep hole letting out a low groan when she spotted just who it was.

The motel manager wasn't her favorite person on the planet at the moment. He'd given her the creeps the second she'd met him at her check in time.

He was a heavy set man with thinning greasy dark hair and a thick mustache. The hair on his body made up for the lack of hair on his head. A thick swath of dark hair was visible under the red bowling shirt he wore and his arms and legs were just as hairy. He made Clara think of a walking talking ape.

Clara put her best winning smile though it honestly came out weak, as she opened the door. "Can I help you?"

"Times up girlie. Check out time is at noon and it's far past that now. You need to get out unless you want to pay for another night that is." The motel manager stated.

Clara cringed as she realized the man was leering at her, peeking down her dark pink blouse.

Clara knew there was no way in hell she could afford another night here. Last time she'd checked she had a little over one hundred dollars to her name. It was decent but it could be better.

The place might be a fleabag motel, but it was a two hundred dollar a night fleabag motel.

She took a deep breath her mother's words ringing in her head;don't ever let anyone make you feel inferior. You're a Munson.

"Okay I don't have the money for another night. I'll be out as soon as possible...just please give me a moment to gather my things." She pleaded hating that she was being forced to beg.

She backed away from the door cringing when she spotted the look of judgment on the motel managers face

She had made a real mess of the motel, though it was already a bit of mess when she'd checked in.

Clara stared down at herself taking in her appearance. At least she was still wearing the same thing she'd been wearing the day before; a soft pink blouse, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of silver sequined flats.

She ran her hands through her short dark choppy chin length hair doing all she could to straighten it out. She was sure that her makeup was a huge mess.

She was thankful that there weren't any mirrors nearby for her to see just how horrid she looked.

She imagined to anyone who managed to take a peek at her and the room would think that she looked like some dumb party girl who'd crashed out in a cheap motel after a night of drinking. Clara knew that this wasn't far from the truth, well it all was but the party girl part.

She gathered her belongings stuffing them all into her two big roller bags. She didn't have much to gather; clothing, a few shoes, her photo albums, and her makeup.

She dragged her suitcases out of the room trying hard to avoid the manager.

He moved aside still leering at her as he spoke his voice sarcastic. "Hope you enjoyed your stay. Please come again."

Clara stared down at the pavement below her making sure that she was far from the manager as she spoke her voice low. "Creepy asshole."

She stuffed her suitcases into the back of her old faded red station wagon slamming the trunk shut, before she climbed into the drivers seat.

She let out a huff wishing for what was probably the billionth time that she had a working air conditioner.

She pulled her rearview mirror down studying her reflection in it. Her dark eyeliner was smudged and her pink lipstick was long gone. She wiped at her face trying to make herself look a bit more presentable.

She had always been told she was a pretty girl. When she was a kid all the women her mother knew would go on and on about what a little dollshe was.

She knew why the comparison had been made. Equally petite features matched her small frame, though she had always felt her nose was far too narrow and pointed. She envied the tiny button nose her best friend had been blessed with. Clara had always felt that her own nose didn't quite fit with the rest of her features.

Her mother had always tried to alleviate this criticism by telling her she had a nose like Helen Mirren; whom her mother insisted was the most gorgeous woman on the planet. Clara's mother was a huge fan of the woman and would often force Clara to watch Helen Mirren's films with her. Her mother would point at Clara's nose and insist see you have a gorgeous nose just like Helen.

Clara studied the spread of freckles along her nose and cheeks noticing that they were really showing given she'd allowed herself to get too much sun. She knew that her big dark eyes were her most noticeable trait.

Clara could remember that her hips had filled in long before her breasts. She'd been afraid that she'd be stuck with nonexistent breasts forever, but with adulthood she'd managed to develop a figure though in her opinion her breasts, at a small c cup, were still too small .

She had definitely taken more after her mother and her grandmother who both at least had curves, than the men in the family whom were wide all over.

Clara pulled her blue fringe handbag into her lap before she opened it up pulling her sad looking leopard print wallet out.

She took a deep breath as she flipped through the cash she had left, four twenties and two tens.

She felt a knot develop in the center of her throat as she realized she was worse off money wise than she'd originally figured.

She mentally cursed herself as she realized she'd spent money the night before on two packs of cigarettes. She just had to feed her nicotine habit didn't she.

She'd stopped by the liquor store too though she couldn't remember what she'd bought, a couple of bottles of soda maybe. She'd always needed a good chaser for hard liquors.

Clara Munson was screwed and she knew it.

This was a far cry from the life she'd become accustomed to over these past few years.

Eight years ago Clara had been a bright faced eighteen year old girl enrolled in the University of Nevada.

She had been studying business hoping that she could one day use her degree to help her launch her own jewelry business.

Her downfall had been all tied to one man; Mitch Daniels.

Clara had once heard a quote that went something like the devil doesn't come in dressed in a red cape and pointy horns, he comes as everything you've ever wished for.She knew that quote applied to Mitch Daniels.

It had all started out innocently enough when she'd decided to go out clubbing with her roommate Victoria. Victoria had been her bff back in those days.

The two girls shared everything; clothing, shoes, and a love of having a good time. They had been so inseparable and in a way they still were.

Victoria and Clara could always get into the right clubs; the right clubs being ones that didn't ask for an ID of course.

That night they'd gone to one of their favorite hangouts; The Palm Tree Lounge.

Eighteen year old Clara allowed her roommate Victoria to drag her through the crowded little club.

Clara nodded her head along to the beat of the high energy Caribbean music as she spoke up. "I can't believe those Ids worked."

Victoria turned to her giving her a grin. "I know. I told you Marco is the best at faking Ids. So what do you want to drink? I'll pay my treat."

"A mojito please. I'll go grab that booth back there before this place has a chance to fill up any more." Clara replied trying to ignore the way her stomach rolled as her best friend and human security blanket walked off towards the bar leaving Clara alone.

Despite the fact that she'd been raised in Charming around the MC, Clara wasn't a wild child by any stretch of the imagination.

This was the first time she'd ever been inside a club. She couldn't help but to fear that the fact that she was still a minor was written all over her face.

She moved forward stumbling on the too tall black strappy heels Victoria had loaned her. 'You can't go out in those converse.' Victoria had insisted as she dug into her massive wardrobe and threw a club appropriate outfit at Clara.

Clara felt so ridiculous. The black mini skirt she wore was too short and the black matching tank top was too low cut.

She'd allowed Victoria to do her makeup giving Clara a dark Smokey eye and shiny lip gloss. Her long hair felt like it was pulled back too tightly in the high pony tail Victoria had insisted on giving her.

As much as Clara loved her roommate she had begun to feel like she was Victoria's own personal barbie doll.

Clara sat down at a high pub table her body feeling so unstable sat up on the equally tall barstool. She stared down at the table below pretending to be entranced by the neon lights reflection against it. She prayed that Victoria would hurry up and return with those drinks.

Clara could really use some liquid courage at the moment.

Clara felt her palms begin to sweat as she realized that she was being watched. She did her best to pretend that she didn't notice as she allowed her eyes to cut to the side peeking at her admirer.

He was everything Clara didn't look for in a guy.

She'd always gone for the bad boy types. She was a sucker for a bad boy with a heart of gold, yes she knew it was a little bit of a cliche. She blamed her raising for her taste in men.

The man watching her was no bad boy. He was a clean cut all American boy. He didn't look like he owned a Harley. He looked like the type that preferred red wine to beer.

He was dressed impeccably; a crisp dark gray suit over a red button down shirt.

Clara widened her eyes as the man stood up from the booth he was sitting at and made his way towards her.

She tried to pretend to be surprised by his presence as he spoke up. "Is this seat taken? It's a shame to see a girl like you all alone."

Clara raised an eyebrow tempted to tell him that she was waiting for her friend to return from the bar.

She hated to admit it though, she was curious as to what he might have to say to her. "I'm waiting for a friend, but I wouldn't mind the company while I wait."

The man grinned taking the seat directly across from her. Clara had to admire him. As cliche as it sounded he was tall dark and handsome.

He had a dazzling smile full of straight white teeth. He had a nice natural looking tan which only made his blue eyes seem all the brighter. His short dark hair was combed neatly parted off to the left and his face was clean shaven revealing a strong jaw line.

Clara hadn't had many boyfriends, though she'd tried. She had tried to put herself out there but it seemed that most the men she attracted were looking for a one night stand rather than a full blown relationship.

She took a deep breath trying to pretend that she talked to attractive guys every single day of the week. "And what do you mean a girl like me?"

"Young, pretty, elegant." He replied his deep voice sending a warm heat throughout her body.

She felt her cheeks flush despite her best efforts to play things cool and pretend that she heard compliments like that all the time.

She ignored the voice in the back of her head to excuse herself before she did something foolish, as she spoke up. "So do you have a name?"

"Mitch Daniels. It's a pleasure to meet you?"

Clara spoke up her cheeks darkening more as he reached across the table placing his hand over hers. "Clara Munson."

And with that Clara was smitten. To her surprise Mitch was just as smitten with her.

He was quite relentless in his pursuit of her.

He had such an aura of charisma. He was clearly the life of the party just about everywhere he went. He knew all the funniest jokes and all the best lines. He was eloquent and was seemingly a true old fashioned gentleman.

Most women would trip over themselves to get his attention. He was what one would call a good catch.

Clara had been so flattered by the attention he'd given her.

She'd always thought that she was too bottom heavy. She wasn't tall like most of her friends. Though she wasn't overweight she knew that she wasn't as thin as most of her friends.

Her body in her opinion was too full. Her friends had always complimented her on her figure; telling her that she had nice curves. She just couldn't become comfortable with her body though.

She had struggled with her weight as a preteen and was still becoming comfortable with her new thinner body. She had dropped a ton of weight right as she entered high school.

Clara worked out like crazy to keep herself from ever gaining back any weight. She ran and did lots of yoga. She tried very hard to follow a strict no sugar diet though occasionally she did wind up cheating and treating herself to a cupcake.

Still she didn't really ever take notice of how far she'd come in the years since her preteens. She had always liked to say that she was still the fat girl in a thin girl's body.

Mitch was in a way the kind of guy she'd never thought would look twice at her.

After that slightly awkward introduction Clara had allowed him to buy her a mojito thinking that it would just be one drink, but the one drink had turned into two drinks, and two drinks had turned into exchanging phone numbers.

Mitch and Clara had moved fast. To be honest Mitch had charmed her right off her feet. He knew all the right things to say to her.

He spoiled her right from the start. He called her every night and took her out every weekend.

He was a raising star among the elite of Vegas. An entrepreneur looking for the best investors, and he found them and charmed them without even breaking a sweat.

He had showered Clara with gifts; designer shoes, beautiful clothing, expensive jewelry, and a brand new bright blue Mini Cooper.

It didn't take long for Mitch to convince Clara to move in with him. They'd lived in a nice luxury condo with the best furniture money could buy.

He gave her shopping trips, appointments with the best salons in Vegas, and he was always just as happy to spoil Clara's mother and Clara's friends.

Mitch had offered to support Clara's dreams of launching her jewelry business. She'd left her university and jumped right into building her dream career.

She'd quickly gone from using clay beads and cheap leather to using fine gems and crystals.

She had started to earn her own money and the paychecks were always impressive. With Mitch's connections she'd been able to build up an impressive clientele.

Mitch and she had managed to buy her mother a nice little house of her own. Her mother had finally been able to move out of her crummy apartment complex. She had been able to retire finally from the long years she'd spent scraping by as a barmaid at the crappy casino by the airport.

Mitch had taken Clara and her mother on nice vacations to New York City and even once to Jamaica' where Mitch had proposed on the beach.

Before Clara had known it she was wearing a big shiny diamond engagement ring and planning for a dream wedding in Hawaii.

One little knock at the front door had changed everything.

She could remember the day her world had come crashing down around her just like it was yesterday.

Clara looked up from the gold ribbon necklace she was currently sewing sparkling gems into as she heard the ding of the doorbell.

She pushed away from the desk her office chair rolling easily along the wooden floors. She stood up from the chair embarrassed by her own appearance; pink yoga pants, a black tank top, no shoes, and her black rimmed glasses. Her hair had been pulled into a messy bun that was more for the purpose of keeping her hair out of her eyes while she worked than for beauty.

Mitch was out of town on yet another business trip. She'd taken this trip of his as a chance to really jump into making some new jewelry pieces without any interruptions. As much as she loved her fiancee he didn't understand that when she was working she needed to be left in silence.

She groaned as the door bell chimed again. It was clear that she'd have no time to freshen up and make herself a little more presentable before answering the door.

She made her way out of her disorganized office/workroom out into the pristine apartment.

The apartment was brand new and it had been filled with the finest furniture money could buy. Mitch had picked an all white decor scheme. Clara wasn't too fond of it, but she'd convinced herself that perhaps once they married he'd allow her to have more input into their home.

After all a happy wife made a happy household.

She stopped at the front door and peeked through the peephole wondering just how her guests had made it through the entrance to the apartment building without ringing her first.

The apartment building was outfitted with the best security. No one got in without ringing a tenant through the speaker box out front.

Clara widened her eyes as she took in her guests. Due to her childhood she could spot a fed from a mile away.

The man and woman looked quite official, clean black suits and neat trimmed hair.

The woman was quite pretty; olive skin, dark eyes, and dark hair that was pulled back into a slick bun. She didn't look all that much older than Clara.

The man was far older than his partner. His dark hair was sprinkled with silver and his face was rugged and worn. His dark eyes only made his ashen pale skin seem fairer.

Clara spoke up her stomach doing flips. Had her Uncle Bobby gotten himself into some trouble? After all why else would feds be knocking on her door.

Maybe they weren't feds, she tried to convince herself. Maybe she was just being paranoid. "Can I help you?"

"Miss. Munson?" The woman asked stepping forward as she pulled a badge from her purse.

Clara felt nauseous reading the badge; Detective Maria Garrison. "Can I help you?"

"We're here regarding your fiancee Mitch Daniels." Detective Garrison stated.

Clara's guard crumbled at the mention of her fiancee. She felt her stomach ache fearing that something horrible had happened to him.

She opened the door her voice rising as panic coursed through her veins. "Is he alright?"

"I think it would be best if you came to the station Miss Munson." The man finally spoke his face giving no sign of just what this was about.

Clara shook her head refusing to move even a step until she knew just what this was all about. "Is there something wrong? Is Mitch okay?"

"That's what we came to talk about. Miss. Just how well do you know Mitchell Ryan aka Mitch Daniels aka Mark Davidson?" The woman asked narrowing her eyes at the clueless woman in front of her.

Clara shook her head in confusion. What was Detective Garrison talking about? Mitch Ryan? Mark Davison?

"What's going on? I don't understand? My fiancee is Mitch Daniels. He owns Daniels Enterprises. He's on a business trip in Chicago right now. I've never heard those other names before." She insisted her breathing quickening.

These people were insane.

This couldn't be happening. Maybe this was some sort of horrible dream? Maybe she'd fallen asleep at her desk after finally passing out in exhaustion from all the work she'd buried herself with?

The man moved forward his eyes just as narrow as Detective Garrison's. "Your fiancee is MIA. And with him is about thirty million dollars in ivestments. Now you're going to come with us to the station and have a talk."

Clara let out a gasp her knees growing weak. Thirty million dollars? MIA?

This couldn't be happening.

It turned out Mitch was more of a con artist than an entrepreneur.

He'd taken all those hefty investments and had pocketed the money. He been using the fortune he'd built up doing this to fund their extravagant lifestyle.

When Mitch had figured out that the shit was about to hit the fan he ran far away.

By the time Clara had been sitting in that dark little interrogation room Mitch had been far out of the county.

It had taken a lot of money and a damn good lawyer to convince the police that Clara was completely and totally in the dark about Mitch's activities.

Her mother had gone into debt trying to pay for Clara's legal defense.

Clara had made it out without any criminal charges, but she had lost everything.

All the money, all the nice things, the home she'd gotten for her mother, and even her business had been taken away from her.

She had fought hard for her business but apparently since it wasn't started up with legalmoney it wasn't hers to keep.

It had taken two years of bullshit, anger, and sorrow for Clara to lose everything.

Mitch was god knows where and she was left to deal with all the shit he'd stirred up.

At twenty six years old when Clara should just be starting out in a promising life, she was broke. She'd gone from living in a beautiful condo to living in a shit apartment with her mother.

Her nice new car had been taken and she'd been forced to buy a old station wagon that barely ran.

She had been forced to work shit jobs that she was overqualified for. She'd worked as everything from an office temp to a barmaid. Her salary barely paid enough.

A few weeks ago she'd finally had enough. She'd taken the little money she had managed to save up and had left the apartment and the comfort of her mother.

Clara couldn't face her mother any longer. Clara was so ashamed. She had thought that she was going to be able to pay her mother back for all those years the woman had spent scrapping by to take care of her only child.

Clara was lost in more ways than one.

She guessed she shouldn't be too shocked that this was her fate.

She was the illegitimate daughter of a deadbeat biker who she hadn't seen since she was ten and a mother who tried but so often failed. Failure was in Clara's blood.

Clara reached into her purse knowing that there was only one man she could turn to in a time like this; Uncle Bobby.

Bobby let out a sigh as held his cell up to his ear. He spoke up doing his best to sound supportive. "Just tell me what you need doe eyes."

He smiled as he heard a soft laugh on the other end of the phone. His nickname for his niece had long been doe eyes and it always brought a smile to her face.

He'd come up with the little nickname when she was just a baby. She'd been staring up at him as he held her with those big dark brown eyes of hers and all he'd been able to think of was a little doe.

She spoke up her voice still weak. "I don't know...I just want to escape this mess. I want to start over."

"Then come on home kid. You know you have family here that would be more than willing to help you get back on your feet." Bobby replied knowing that this was just what Clara needed to hear.

He could hear the defeat in her voice. She was a stubborn one. The Munson family was and had always been a stubborn bunch.

Bobby knew that Clara needed to come to this decision all on her own. She had too much pride to just wander on home with her tail between her legs the first second shit went wrong.

"I don't have the money. I can't ask mom Bobby. I've fucked up her life so much." Clara admitted the guilt she felt weighing down on her so heavily.

Bobby spoke up trying to give her the confidence and comfort she needed. "Let me take care of that. Go back home to your mom and wait a few days. I'll send you the money."

"You can't do that...I don't know when I'll be able to pay you back." Clara exclaimed knowing that her finances were a wreck.

"Let me worry about that doe eyes. You just wait for the money and get here when you can. I love you kid. We're going to figure this out." Bobby reassured her.

He knew that he'd have to book a few more shows with his Elvis act to get earn back the money he was sending her, but it was all worth it.

Clara let out a shaky sigh as she spoke. "I love you too. I'll see you soon."

Bobby hung up his burner cell wishing that he could find the right words to say to Clara. He wished he knew what he could say to give her the strength she so badly needed.

He tossed the cell down on the toolbox beside him as he ran a hand through his bushy hair.

Bobby knew that he was probably what most would call a shitty dad. He barely saw his son Tiki though that was mostly because Bobby's second ex wife Precious had tried to shoot Bobby last time Bobby and she had spoken.

Bobby had failed at a lot of shit in his life, but the only thing he always did well ,not counting the club of course, was taking care of his little sister Tammy and his niece Clara.

Tammy had followed her big brother right into the biker lifestyle. Through her big brother she'd met a young biker who went by the name of Oak.

Oak was a former juvenile delinquent turned biker. Which Bobby knew he couldn't judge. The one thing he did judge though was Oak's tendency to screw around on Tammy and his reliance on his one true love heroin.

The one thing everyone knew was; Never trust a junkie.

Oak couldn't be trusted by the sons. He wasn't thinking straight. All he cared about was the needle. His club loyalties weren't nearly as strong as his loyalty to his drug of choice.

Oak had been forced out of Samcro by Clay; his kutte burned, his patches stripped.

The man had just disappeared after that leaving an angry ex wife and a little girl behind.

Bobby had stepped up to the plate long before then making sure that his sister and his niece were cared for. Bobby knew he had to be there for his niece in all the ways her father failed to. He did all that he could to be a father figure to Clara and the girl adored her Uncle Bobby.

When Clara was about sixteen Tammy had decided to make a new start for herself in Las Vegas. Bobby had reluctantly let his niece go knowing deep down that it was for the best.

He kept in contact with Clara though throughout the years. Every time he had a gig doing his Elvis impersonations he stopped by his sister's apartment and spent time with his niece.

He was quite proud of his niece. The girl was bright, driven, and above all kind. She had big dreams and was determined to follow them.

Bobby believed the girl had what it took to achieve anything she put her mind to. The girl made some pretty incredible pieces of jewelry. He saw the way people fawned over the things she made. He had no doubt that she could make a living with it.

Bobby had been happy that Clara had found an honest man. Mitch had been promising. Yes he was a snob and Bobby wasn't entirely pleased with the man's attitude. Mitch didn't lead a dangerous life though. He wasn't a son.

Bobby hadn't wanted the life of an old lady for his niece. He had been afraid that she would choose a biker. It was a relief to see that this fiancée of her's hadn't been the biker type.

Clara's honest man though turned out to be a nightmare. If it had been up to Bobby he would of tracked the bastard down and put a bullet through his head himself.

Bobby knew that Clara was a mess. These past couple of years had been hellish for Clara.

That bastard Mitch Daniels had destroyed Clara's life.

Bobby wanted to fix this for his niece. He wanted her to gain her pride back.

Clara was the daughter he'd never had and he would do just about anything for her.

She needed him right now and he was going to do all that it took to help her out.

Bobby stared off towards TM Auto's office knowing that he had to talk to Gemma before he did anything else.

He just hoped the Queen of Samcro was willing to accept his troubled niece into the family.

This is just an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a while. I finally decided to go ahead and do something with it.

I hope that you'll enjoy it. Reviews? Constructive Criticism?