Chapter 1: Run This Town
"Life's a game but it's not fair. I break the rules so I don't care. So I keep doin' my own thing. Walking tall against the rain. Victory's within the mile. Almost there, don't give up now. Only thing that's on my mind. Is who's gonna run this town tonight." – Jay-Z feat. Rihanna
Charlie loved to run. It helped burn off her infamous late night cravings like last nights four slices of pizza and beer. You would never guess it to look at her though; her body was athletic and slim. The kind of body no one was just born with and she worked hard for hers. That meant running, and lots of it. Truth be told she actually liked to do it, enjoyed the freedom it gave her. She lived for that feeling when her lungs felt like they might burst and her fingers started to tingle. It was just her against her own willpower. Her ear buds pumping loud beats into her ears, urging her on when she thought she couldn't go any further. Baraka at her side happily galloping along as his ears flopped and his tongue wagged along with his tail, making sure she kept pace.
It had been exactly 5 days since she had lugged everything she owned across the country in a trailer. Leaving her old apartment in Jersey for a quaint little house in the suburbs of California was a culture shock to say the least. It was a lot harder adjusting to the quiet than she expected… and the pizza? Well it just wasn't the same. The most noise she ever heard was the occasional thunderous sound of motorcycles passing in the distance. They reminded her a little of the chaos of traffic in her neighborhood and though the rumbling was decidedly deeper it made her smile every time. Save those moments, she was as strong as could be and you would never know to look at her that she felt like she didn't belong.
Instead Charlie stuck with her headphones, volume at full blast, which she once used to drown out the chaos of the city. Now she used them to cut the silence. Charming wasn't a big place so her long runs took her through most of the town at some point or another. That included the less than seemly parts of town most people would probably advise her not to run through alone. It didn't concern her in the least. She'd run in worse places and with her ninety-five pound pit-bull Baraka along, most people stayed far out of her way anyway.
After rounding a corner she saw the chain link fence of the Teller-Morrow garage. It had an ominous feel to it whenever she passed by that always made her want to run a little faster down that block. It was an urge she fought and resisted several times now. Charlie knew what went on there, had been warned about it by her boss. In fact it was the reason she took that route, though she would never admit it aloud.
Her dad always said it was better to face your fears head on. Advice, much to his dismay, she often took more literally than he'd intended. Facing down fear gave her a rush even better than running. Better than a lot of things she could think of… She would never call herself an adrenaline junkie though, because in her mind those people jumped out of planes and climbed impossibly steep cliff faces. No one did that kind of stuff where she grew up. They didn't need to. Real life was scary enough.
She'd passed by the lot at least half a dozen times already without incident and was beginning to think that maybe the myth was bigger than the reality. The place was usually busy with lots of coming and going. Nothing looked out of the ordinary to her though. Except of course those bikes she heard. This was where they came from. It was like their bat cave, only it was the bad guys in there not Bruce Wayne and Alfred. That and this cave wasn't tucked away in some hidden corner of a mansion. It was right out in the open. Like a drug dealer who left his keys in the ignition and walked away. Everyone knew better than to mess with them so hiding wasn't really necessary.
As she came up on the open gate she made a point of holding tight to the leash in her hand in case Baraka tried to wander. Squinting her eyes behind dark glasses she thinks she's sees someone coming, or were they waiting? The figure steps out suddenly and catches her off guard. He had caught the dog's interest as well and thusly found himself snagged in Baraka's leash. Charlie quickly pulled out her headphones to chastise her dog, which was happily sniffing the stranger, and stop him from tangling him up entirely.
"Sit." She spoke in a firm tone. He obediently sat in place eyeing the stranger with a grumble. "Sorry about that…I didn't see you coming." She lied, trying to be polite. Cursing out bikers for not watching where they were going was something even she knew better than to do.
The man was a good bit taller than her 5'6", with skin the color of caramel. Or at least his face was. The rest of him was too covered in tattoos to make out for certain what was underneath. He wasn't a big bulky kind of guy like she expected but he still loomed large over her somehow. You could see there was muscle on him, but it was lean and taught. His bald head had a faintest hint of stubble on it and his dark eyes were almost black.
It surprised her that he didn't have a big beer gut or a long ponytail like she had pictured in her head. Charlie's idea of bikers came from watching too many movies. This guy was a lot more… Well attractive was her first thought, dangerous was her second. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt, jeans and a black leather vest with patches. He was… really one of them she thought as her breathe caught imperceptibly.
The biker reached a hand down to pat Bear on the head, "Nice Pit." he said without a smile. The teeth that began to show themselves with a silent snarl as his hand got closer changed his mind. "Friendly…" he noted, pulling his hand back slowly but without a hint of fear.
The stranger took the opportunity to take her in now instead, unabashedly eyeing from toe to head. She was still on the right side of thirty but she was old enough to know that look and old enough to hate it. Wearing a pair of black bicycle shorts and a matching sports bra didn't leave much for his imagination either. The get-up sometimes got her more attention than she wanted but she usually passed them by too fast to notice.
Charlie worked hard for her body and wasn't going to let a few perverts embarrass her out of it. The fact that it would be less controversial to run around half naked if she were a man might have been a factor as well. Her sense of fairness was as unflinching as the look she gave the stranger. "He's a little over-protective." She tells him, attempting small talk.
"I would be too." he said appreciatively, almost under his breathe. She looked past him as work had seemed to come to a standstill in the lot. Everyone was watching them. This was definitely not good.
It was also not how she had hoped her first meeting with the Sons of Anarchy would play out. She liked to be on an even playing field with people like that and she sensed by the way everyone was staring that it was no accident he ran into her. "Gotta get going…" she nodded without a smile and jerked the leash to signal Baraka to follow.
She made it one step before he grabbed her shoulder, "Nice… ink." He said taking a better look at her back. Charlie was a fan of tattoos too. Her back looked like one big canvas that extended to the quarter sleeve of her right arm. To anyone else it might be a mess of pictures, words, symbols and colors. To her it was a story. The story of her life and although she had appreciated the camaraderie of the club it seemed the both belonged to, she did not like being touched by strangers.
"What's your name?" he asked. His voice was scratchy and deep, the kind you would expect from a person who didn't give their vocal cords a whole lot of practice.
Baraka let out a harmless bark as she pulled his leash tighter to her. She was grateful for the dark pair of aviators she had on. Taking one look at him and then at the various men within the gates she smiled deviously at the joke she was sure she was out of the loop on, "Not interested."
Turing away she took off running again before he could stop her. "Bitch." the stranger uttered coolly. Charlie had put her ear buds back in though and was happily oblivious to his response. He turned to walk back to the garage as everyone quickly scrambled too look busy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the guys, whose uniform read the name 'Juice', snicker at him and he made one quick step in that direction with his chest puffed out. Juice quickly put his head back under the hood of the car he had been working and the stranger stalked off.