So if you've read my stories you know that things are usually pretty slow going. Though I try my hardest to sort that out, I can't help when inspiration strikes. And here we are with yet another story. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter One – This Life

"... This life is short

Baby that's a fact

Better live it right

You ain't comin' back..."

– Curtis Stigers & the Forest Rangers

"Maise Mae are you sure you don't have to go potty?"

Rosie's hazel gaze stuck on the reflection of her four, almost five, year old daughter in the rear view mirror. The thin little girl widened her light green eyes and shook her sandy blonde head. Her whole body shook along with her head, rocking her booster seat a little side to side.

"'Cause we can stop. I don't know when we'll reach somewhere you can get out." Rosie's attention turned back to the California landscape that was whizzing by and becoming increasingly barren. Summer had officially started two weeks ago and even though was in front her was pretty much dusty, dry, desert, Rosie could not be happier then she was that very moment Sacramento was finally behind her.

"Umm…" Rosie heard from the back seat, she blew some of the light long brown hair that had come loose from her ponytail out of her eyes to check the mirror again. She could see her daughter had already gotten distracted and was intently colouring in her 'Moo Moo Loves Cows' colouring book, her ever present plushy purple animal shoved under one her arms, her legs kicking mindlessly under her purple dress.

"Fantastic…" Rosie sighed, the wind whipping her hair around her face through open windows of her Uncle Rico's blue, beat up 442 Oldsmobile. He had given it to her when she had turned 16 but whenever Rosie thought of the hunk of junk car all she saw was her beer belly, fuzzy bearded, tatted up Uncle Rico.

Turning up the volume of the one of the rock tapes that Tony had loved so much, Rosie decided it would probably be ok. It was a long trip but she had stuck an overnights pull-up on Maise just in case.

"Louder mama!" Maise shouted.

Smiling at the sudden attention from the backseat, Rosie replied, "You got it baby…" she looked at the metal ring hanging for luck from the rear view mirror as she turned up the music. They had all they needed, She pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator, there was nothing stopping them now… they were heading towards their new start.

"Momma!" Maise was practically crying. "MOMMA! HURRY!" the little girl called from the backseat.

Rosie wanted to smack herself. 'Such an idiot!' She knew exactly where she had left the diapers, back in the old house, right by toilet. 'Just amazing Rosalyn. Perfect.'

"Hold on sweetie. Mommy's looking." Rosie hazel eyes frantically scanned the small strip of the town they had just entered.

Nearly forty minutes ago in the middle of nowhere Maise had wet herself, which was also the moment Rosie realized she had forgotten the diapers. About ten minutes before they had pulled into town was when Maise had decided she had to go the bathroom… Rosie would have pulled over and let Maise do her business but now they were in a town... and going to the toilet on sidewalk was different to going in a bush or in the desert. Rosie just couldn't make Rosie do it in the middle of the street.

'Genius! Fucking moving on a Sunday morning.' Rosie chided herself, as she noticed all of the closed business on this quiet dusty road. 'Yes!'

Rosie felt some relief. A place lined with so many motorcycles had to be open. She gave some thought to how wrong it would be to take a child into bar. 'Looks like the places Tony took me the same age…' Rosie thought fondly. She had some of the best times of her life with Tony and his friends, they had been like a second family. She had always been irked by how much of a bad rep biker bars got. Tony had been a biker, so had his friends and Rosie couldn't think any people more cuddly and warm. And Tony always said that even if bars were seedy and not on the up and up, the chances of being caught in the crossfire of something were slim… no one was stupid enough to attack home turf. That being said she wasn't an idiot… she gave the bar another quick study as she pulled up to the curb. 'Sons of Anarchy…' she eyed the grim reaper hanging over the place 'cool name…'

"MOM!"

Rosie sprang into action, at the sound of Maise's voice. "Ok, baby, we're going."

Making her way to the back seat, her she couldn't help but take note of the five bikes parked out front. 'Tony would be jealous…' she thought to herself unbuckling Maise, picking the girl up and closing the door before rushing into the grimy place.

Inside looked like any other empty roadhouse bar. Smelled like one too. Cigarettes, whiskey, blood, sweat and tears.

Holding a wriggling Maise on her hip Rosie called, "Hello?"

When there was no reply. She figured that Maise using the bathroom anyway wouldn't hurt anyone. She raced to where the signs for the bathrooms were, she stood Maise on the ground, lined the least grubby toilet with toilet paper, pulled down Maise's underpants and sat her down on the seat. Crouching before her daughter Rosie waited.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

Maise shook her light haired head, she looked perplexed. "It's not coming…"

"Are you joking with me Margret Mae?"

She shook head apologetically again.

"Are you nervous, honey? Is it the place?"

Maise shrugged her little shoulders.

"Ok." Rosie thought for a moment. "What if I tickle you?" She grinned, playfully tickling Maise sides. The four year old squealed and laughed but still no tinkling.

"Fun but didn't work huh?" Rosie made a silly confused face. "How about this?" She stood up straight making sure the cubicle door stayed open and she could she Maise, Rosie walked to the sinks across from the stalls. Turning on a groaning tap, the sound of water filled the washroom. Facing her daughter properly Rosie began to speak. "Does tha-" her hazel gaze caught on something by the door that made her heart stop and her throat close up "… help…" she finished in kind of a whimper.

Vaguely, over the buzz in her head she could hear trickling sound of her baby going to the bathroom. Trying to focus on her breathing was almost impossible, all she could think of was Maise. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Rosie did as the man with bloodied nose and the gun was indicating for her do with his free index finger.

She edged slowly towards him, not wanting to frighten Maise into thinking she had suddenly disappeared. She wanted her daughter to stay right where she was and not run after her.

It didn't quite work though.

"Mama. Where are you going?" Maise's eyes grew bigger in slight panic and the sound of her going to the toilet stopped, when she noticed her mom moving away.

"I'm right here baby. You just keep going. Stay there okay? Mommy's right here." She was very close to the man now, she resisted the urge to squeak when the last word when he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him.

He wrapped disgustingly beefy arm around her neck, she could feel his chest heaving behind her, cold metal of the gun press against her scalp. Her toes brushed the ground, her fingers clutched at the arm around her neck. She could fuzzily hear what he was asking, but it wasn't until he mentioned the word daughter she could hear him clearly.

'What would Tony and the guys say?' Gritting her teeth and gathering up her strength, she remembered what she was taught, she remembered this guy's nose was broken, she remembered she really wasn't an idiot. 'This is gonna hurt…' with that she swung her head back.

Crack!

"AH! YOU BITCH!" He let go, his nose most likely broken again.

"Mommy?"

Ignoring the sudden hot pain at the back her head, Rosie moved in a blur, unsure of all of her actions. She knew that she had snatched Maise up, made sure the girl's eyes were pointed directly at her chest and then she had run, unclear really of what she was seeing. Outside the bathroom, all she could be certain of was she saw more guns pointed at the washroom exit. Familiar blue eyes telling her to go.

The next thing she knew she was in the car, she'd Maise stuffed into the back seat and had the pedal to the floor as she sped away from that place.

"What was that Mama?"

Rosie didn't answer, she wasn't sure she was even really breathing, she caught a glance at herself in the rear view mirror '... as white as a sheet.' Her head was aching from the hit and the frenzied thoughts rushing through her brain.

"That bang, bang?" Maise asked, somehow completely unscathed.

'Unscathed. Even though I actually am an idiot…' a series of what ifs started filling her head as she worked out what to do next.

"They were fireworks sweetheart."

"Really!" Maise became excited, turning on her knees to peek out of the backseat window. "Can I see?"

"No, Maise. Sit down."

"But…"

"Margret sit down now." Rosie used a tone of voice that she usually made Maise listen. She could hear complainant shuffling in that back seat.

'What do I do? They might have seen the car out there. They could recognize it. Could they think I'm a witness? Shit. I…' Rosie's pulse started to thud again.

"I'm all wet." Maise's contemplative voice came from behind.

"I'm sorry." Rosie stated, thinking of the wet patches spreading across her daughter's purple sundress. "I'm so sorry baby."

They had made it. The keys in the envelope that the lawyer had given her worked. It didn't seem so bad. Rosie was thankful that her arrangements had gone through. The house was still standing, the furniture had been covered in sheets and the electricity and hot water were working, which was a load off. It was one level at the end of a path that led through an uncut front lawn. The sun had been setting when they stepped into the musty place, the kitchen was in a room to the left of solid wood front door, to the right there was an open carpeted space coloured with cream paint and a rock fire place on the far right wall. What looked like a couch sat in front of a large curtained window that faced out of to the front lawn from the living room, walking in a straight line from the door passed the kitchen and living room led to a small hallway that ran horizontally across the house, to the left off the hall there were two decent sized bedrooms, to the right there was a bathroom with a tub and a master bedroom.

She locked the front door, turned on the porch light, plugged the tub in the bathroom and turned on the water, then went about finding the bag with all of their bathroom supplies. While Maise was now dry she still smelt very bad, and Rosie was worried about rashes. She hadn't had a chance to change her with everything that had happened.

As soon as Rosie had seen a used car dealership she had ditched her Uncle's car, grabbed their bags and taken about two thousand out of what was left of the cash she had brought with her. She hadn't even haggled, she just wanted to get rid of the recognizable car. The trade went through quickly, the guy selling the black Toyota tried being nice but didn't ask many questions once Rosie snapped at him. She had still been on edge, she felt bad looking back. 'Poor used car salesman, working on a Sunday.'

Maise had a tantrum fifteen minutes after they had driven out of the sales lot. They had left her plushy toy in the Oldsmobile. Though Rosie felt guilty again, but she'd be damned if she was going back, even after she realized she had left Tony's ring too. By the time they had made it to the house the little girl had calmed down, but was completely drained.

Once she had gotten all their bags inside Rosie was able to bathe her daughter in less time than it had ever taken her. Maise usually loved the water, but she was so tired from the travel and the yelling that she could barely keep her sweet light eyes open.

"Oh Maise Mae… almost done," Rosie hummed, to her daughter who was waiting sleepily in the doorway to the master bedroom. She had taken the sheet off of the king bed in the master bedroom, checked the mattress and replaced the sheets and pillows with the ones she had brought herself. She plugged in Maise's 'Moo Moo' bedside lamp, before picking her baby up and resting her against the pillows.

Maise's thick sandy blonde hair was still wet, but in the summer heat Rosie was sure it would dry by morning. She sat with Maise, her hazel eyes taking in her beautiful little girl. She didn't know how it was possible to love something so much. She hummed, stroking her daughter's hair, Maise's little hand was curled around the one Rosie was resting on the bed. She didn't want her little girl to be scared ever. Slowly Maise's grip loosened and her mouth lolled open. She was asleep.

Gently pulling away, and pressing a kiss to Maise's forehead, Rosie walked out towards the hall, leaving the door ajar in case Maise woke up and didn't know where she was.

Stopping just outside the door, Rosie looked into the dark hallway, staring blankly at the open door to the bedroom at the other end of the hall. Her hands were on her hips, squeezing, her head was filled fuzzy noise and her heart was pounding against her ribs as what had happened flooded her head.

"Oh god." She rushed to bathroom, ready to be sick into the toilet. All she did was dry heave.

Standing up shakily, she looked at herself in the large mirror over the toilet and sink. Untying her hair she was glad her head didn't hurt so bad anymore. But she seized up when she felt something crusty in her hair, frowning she twisted her upper body and pulled forward the hair to see the reflection better. She already knew what the dried up lumps were, she could see small browned spots on the back of her shirt now too. Blood.

Ripping off her clothes, Rosie unplugged the tub behind her and jumped in. Washing herself clean. 'I need to talk to Molly.'

'Is this sad or nice?' Rosie had finished her shower quickly. She hadn't wanted her hearing to be obscured for too long. It was now about three hours since she had arrived at the house. She hadn't made that phone call to Molly, mostly because she hadn't known what she would say to her oldest friend in the world.

So instead Rosie had towel dried her light brown hair, found a comfy wife beater and some pajama shorts and gotten curious. Initially she had been intent on getting the kitchen clean. She scrubbed the grey counter tops, blue checkered linoleum floors, the oven and the old brown fridge with what few supplies she had brought with her, finding only a working toaster and not much else in the cabinets. 'Add microwave to list for tomorrow.' Rosie looked around the sparsely furnished kitchen. There was small table with metal legs, a window with blinds above the kitchen sink that looked out on to the decent sized lawn, a door with a widow in it that lead out of the side of house to a path. She didn't open the door but when she lifted the cloth covering on the window Rosie could see trash cans to one side and what looked like a tall gate to the other 'That's good.' She felt a little more secure.

It had not taken her long to scrub the kitchen clean, she had needed the distraction and that had made her work fast. She had tied her thick wavy hair into a messy bun once it had fully dried and could feel the loose strands sticking to her sweaty neck. 'So much for the shower…'

She stepped back into the living her room, her bare feet kicked up some dust from the grey carpet. 'Another thing…' she added a carpet cleaner to the grocery list. Pulling off her yellow rubber gloves and tossing a dirty rag into the bowl she'd been using for cleaning water, Rosie wandered back into the hall. She walked slowly towards the rooms to the left. One was at the direct end of the hall, the other was next to the bathroom on the back wall of the house.

On the wall connected kitchen and across from the back wall, Rosie found a closet that had an ancient washer and dryer, along with some shelves for towels and blankets. 'Great. If they work…' she scrutinized the machines standing side by side in the closet.

She walked on into the room at that far end of the hall. Flicking on the light she saw light peach paint on the walls and a bunch of furniture covered by white sheets.

It was when she pulled the sheets off that the thought of sadness versus niceness had run through her mind.

There was a crib, a mobile that had chimed, a rocking chair, change table, a dresser and a love seat. The pictures taken down and left on the dresser, had been typical fare found on baby room walls, little water coloured ducks and hearts.

It made Rosie's heart sink. She stood her fingers tracing the dark wood of crib which sat by the far wall that had a large window in it. She eyed the planes on the mobile hanging above the empty mattress.

Pretty much everything was in good condition, Rosie wondered what must have happened to keep them from selling baby furniture. She could understand keeping everything else but baby furniture... 'it must have been bad…'

She wasn't sure what to do with this. It was strange but she could almost feel the love that must have made this room. Her hands reached to trail over the clean firm mattress. She couldn't do it. Her hand curled into a fist, she remembered what Molly had said... 'Don't let that soft heart of yours get you lost.' Molly was right, Rosie had the worst bleeding heart in California, possibly the world. It had gotten her in trouble where she worked while she had finished her BA and got Certification for Teaching. Four years, eleven back to back semesters, raising Maise, taking care of Tony and … other business. On top of which she still she had the trouble of losing it over the sick ones at work almost everyday.

Now at the end of year she'd be twenty-three and Rosie was wondering if she could change. She was trying as hard as she could to make things different. This house was paid off, the lawyer said that there were bills for the upkeep that used to be maintained yearly, until the year it all went wrong...

And Dr. Case had gotten her this private school placement to finish up her certification. If she could just hold it together, get another job, get Maise into preschool and find a babysitter she would be fine.

Her heart just had to stay out of the way. 'Tomorrow this goes on eBay…' Rosie thought to herself determinedly, forcing herself not care about the people who had used these things. It worked… kind of.

She looked at the duck painting on the dresser on her way out of the room. 'Except this…' she turned back to look at the mobile.

"Argh!" she let out. Annoyed with herself, she grabbed the white sheets that she had dropped on the floor and forced herself to leave the room.

She turned on the washer, found some of the detergent that she had brought along. 'No time like the present to test.' Pouring some soap in as the water filled up, Rosie collected the dirty clothes from the day and the rags she had used to clean the kitchen. Dumping it all in, she closed the lid of the old machine and heard the sound of the washer beginning to spin. 'Just gotta wait now.'

Closing the closet doors a little, so the noise didn't carry, Rosie turned on her heel to face the second dark room on this side of house.

The other room had a twin bed under a window against the far wall. She could tell it belonged to a child. The walls were a pastel yellow-green colour, it was comforting. The bed had light wood head board that matched a dresser, a small desk, a book shelf and a night table.

After checking the mattress for bed bugs or mould, Rosie smiled. "Perfect for Miss. Maise."

Having found a new project, Rosie dug up the bag that had everything Maise had needed and wanted to bring along.

She started dressing the bed deciding that Maise would probably settle easier if she saw some of her own things set up.

Rosie had just untangled the fairy lights they had packed from the old house, and was in the process of twining them around the top of the head board when, over the sound of the washer, she heard a knock at the front door.

Guessing if you've read my other stories you know I'm a sucker for single mums.

Let me know what you think. Next chapter soon.