It was sweltering honestly: a hot day in California. Not really all that surprising. What was surprising was her car breaking down. Cursing and slamming her hands against her steering wheel, she cursed the God that let her take this car and also the one that let it break down. She lets out a sigh and reaches for a water bottle, taking a short drink and sighing before stepping out of the vehicle. Closing the door with her hip, she strides to the front and watches smoke rise from underneath the hood. She carefully lifts the hood before quickly stepping back, waving a hand in front of her and coughing. She looks towards the way she was going—nothing for miles. Then, the other way. On the horizon was what appeared to be a tow truck. What her luck!

Regardless, she knew that California wasn't safe, or anyone really. So she strode over to the driver side and bent through the rolled down window, reaching into her purse to ensure her 9mm Beretta was in it. Upon finding it was, she slid the purse into the driver seat before strutting over to the side of the road and waving a hand as the truck grew closer. The driver appeared to notice as the brakes were put on and the truck seemed to be pulling towards her. She backed up a bit, watching as it came to a perfect stop right in front of her. The window rolls down and she gives a welcoming smile to the driver: a younger looking man with dark brown, almost black hair and blue eyes, from what she could tell. As he leaned towards her to speak, she saw that he was wearing a uniform which said Lowell on his left side and Teller-Morrow on the other.

"You, uh, need some, uh, help, miss?" He asks, looking to the car behind her.

"Oh, uh, yes. If you could tow me back to town, that'd be great." She says, shaking her head.

"Uh, well, I am headed that way, I suppose, but the boss wouldn't like it."

"I could pay you." She says, running for her purse, increasing her voice as she starts digging through her purse. "I have a couple hundred dollars."

"Oh, um, I guess it's okay then. We could also fix up your car." He says, getting out of the vehicle and slamming the door shut. She holds the Beretta firm in her hands.

He seems like a nice guy, but sometimes, people aren't what they seem. She watches as he prepares her vehicle for hook-up then he asks for her keys. Then, he gets in his truck and does a U-turn before going a little distance and backing up to the car. He gets out and hooks it up. A bit of a loud noise hurts her ears as the car is lifted by the truck. Finally, when it's settled, he gives a wave, an invitation to the truck and she follows, releasing the Beretta. She steps into the truck with ease and shuts the door hard, just as he had. She pulls out the hundred and offers it to him but he shakes his hand.

"Oh, no, Gemma handles that stuff."

"Oh, okay. Thanks for doing this, uh," She glances at his shirt again. "Lowell, is it?"

"Yeah. And you?"

"Hanna. Nice to meet you, Lowell."

"Nice to meet you too, Hanna."

It was a long drive to Teller-Morrow. She didn't realize how far out into the desert she was until it seemed like it'd been two hours since he'd loaded her car up. They finally arrived at Teller-Morrow and she watched as boys, or well men, in leather jackets with a reaper on the back proclaiming Sons of Anarchy across the top walked by as Lowell slowly drove into the lot.

"What's with the Sons of Anarchy?" She finally asked as they came to a brief stop, only for it to start up again to start backing up.

"Oh, it's a motorcycle enthusiast club. Just a bunch of dudes who like Harleys and work on cars, really." He replies with a casual shrug before the truck came to an abrupt stop. "Just outside your door, there's a door. That's where Gemma is."

"Oh, okay." She opens the door and slid herself out with a nod, slamming it closed. She instantly feels eyes on her and while she's used to it, it's still uncomfortable. Swallowing, she walks to the door he was talking about and peered in, giving a knock to it. The woman inside was older than Lowell, clearly, but definitely not unattractive. She was dressed in dark clothes and had dark hair with highlights to match.

"Uh, yeah?" She asks. Her voice was a bit rough.

"Um, your tow-guy, I guess, towed my car after it broke down and said I could get it fixed here."

"Damn it, Lowell." She cursed under her breath, looking across the desk.

"I-I can pay. I have a couple hundred for the tow and um, I can pay for whatever needs fixed too." She steps forward, holding the money out to her. The other woman stares at it for a few moments before sighing.

"You don't have to pay for it now. You'll pay after we fix it, okay? Now, what's your name? Real name." She says, sitting down and pulling out a piece of paper.

"Uh, Hanna Bowen."

"You see that fine piece of ass Lowell brought in with him? Think they did it in the truck?" Tig asked of the boys around him, rubbing his hands together and looking at the girl sitting in the office of Teller-Morrow with Gemma.

"Oh, please. That girl's outta his league." Chibs responded, blowing the smoke from his cigarette out of his mouth and also turning to look.

"She's out of your league too." Jax says, slapping his leg as he erupted in laughter. He slowly stopped, and finished his own cigarette before standing from the picnic table and striding towards the office where the girl in question had just stepped out. Sighs went all around and a mutter of Jackie boy, no as he walked towards her, a hand casually stuck in his jean pocket. She had beautiful dark skin the color of mocha, like that really fancy coffee you order, and her hair was a dark brown, dreaded from the front of her hairline to the nape of her neck. She was dressed for Cali in a loose fringe tank-top and a pair of short ripped-up shorts covering only most of her thighs. She was stumbling around, or so it appeared, on a pair of really fancy gold heels.

"Hey, darlin', you need a ride somewhere?" He called to her, coming to a stop in his stride about a foot from her. She turned and brushed some of her dreads from her face, revealing bright blue eyes. Gold glitter adorned her eyelids and soft pink lips shone underneath the sunlight (lip gloss, probably). She gave a smile and brought her hands up to her lips and Jax noticed that she had acrylic nails. His eyebrows quirked.

"Uh, I guess. I'm just staying with my friend." She says with a slow nod, bringing her hand back down to her side, reaching into the purse there and digging around. She emerged with a phone, a glittery case around it. She noticed Jax's expression and gave a nervous laugh. "You probably think I'm really crazy about glitter, and uh, you're right."

Confident. Jax liked confident. His expression shifted to a smile as she started texting on her phone.

"Wherever you need to go, I can take you." He says, shifting in his spot and turning a little to look at the guys, who were giving him expectant looks. He flipped them off before turning back to her.

"Um, my friend says she lives in Eastburough?"

He gives a nod and a wide grin, striding over to the row of bikes, presumably his. He swings his leg over it and grabs a helmet, handing it to her. She takes it and puts it on before cautiously getting on the bike.

"You ever road a bike before?" He asks, starting it up and revving the engine.

"Yeah. A few times when I was a kid with an uncle of mine...he, uh, wrecked and died when I was ten."

"Don't worry, darlin', I won't wreck."