For some reason he could not get that green eyed bitch with the long white blonde and blue dreadlocks out of his mind. She had been extremely attractive for a chick on the side of the road with a charge of seventy-five, with her petite curvy body, surprising white gorgeous smile, and even more surprising that tight pussy of hers. It wasn't something he did often, picking up hookers, just when that feeling of loneliness coupled with rage creeped up on him. And lately these days, with Donna's parents and her sister breathing down his neck it had been creeping up a little bit more frequently. He popped his knuckles, maybe it was time to go trolling for another release. A punch of guilt hit him low in the stomach, instead of burying himself in pussy maybe he should be talking to his kids. He couldn't even look at Ellie. He knew he was making it harder on himself, easier for those fuckers to swoop in and take his kids. But a sliver of him thought maybe it was best. He wasn't sure. With a sigh he turned his attention back onto his steak and eggs.

Him, Jax, Chibs, and Juice were sitting in a booth at Lumpy's Family Restaurant. And as usual these days, Opie was the only one not talking.

"Have you talked to Rosen about the custody thing," Jax asked before digging into the last bit of his burger.

"Not yet."

"Ope man, I know you're busted up over Donna but you gotta come through for your kids. Do you really want them raised without you?"

He remembered when his mother had took him away for a while when he was a teenager. Away from his dad. Away from the club. All he had done was come right back. He really couldn't imagine life without his kids but right now life without Donna was too hard to handle. He wasn't going to answer Jax's question-at least not truthfully. He did not want it getting back to Gemma. And he sure as hell did not need Gemma slapping any type of sense into him. Dropping the money on the linoleum table he stood up and headed towards the door, "I'll see you back at TM," he said almost on a whisper. He needed to get back to the garage, get back to the clubhouse, see if anybody had found anything on the Niner who had killed Donna.

In the middle of a custody battle was maybe not the best time to go on a murdering rampage. But this was his wife. He wasn't going to let anybody exact his revenge for him-this would be all on him. He didn't have a Men of Mayhem patch accidentally. When he turned the corner out of Lumpy's, something at the end of the street caught his attention. A little small thing with white blonde and blue dreadlocks.

XXXXXXXXXXX

She had walked from that rinky dink motel where she had been turning tricks at to the nearest town. Charming. With a quaint little entrance sign that said Our Name Says It All. Cute. It was small, reminded her of home a little bit. And she hadn't been reminded of home, at least not in a good way, maybe ever since she had left. Maybe she would stay for a while, earn a little bit of cash before making it to LA. That was the smart thing to do because there was no way in hell she'd make it in LA without a little bit of start-up money. But she wanted something legit. Not hookin'. She didn't mind stripping but sometimes people got a little bit handsy. A bartending or a waitress gig would do.

She had been standing on the corner for maybe less than fifteen minutes, lighting up a cigarette when a Sheriff police car stopped in front of her, blocking the stop sign. Great, she thought. She tossed the cigarette on the ground and used the heel of today's black unlaced combat boots to stamp out the butt.

"You're not from around here," he said.

Way to state the obvious. As if the large duffel bag by her feet didn't give her away.

"You've been standing here at this corner for quite a while."

"Well, my feet are tired. Sick of walking."

"Walking?"

"Look what can I do for you? I mean do you want something-or not?"

He smirked. She didn't like the look of it. "Are you propositioning me?"

Oh fuck. Great. Just great. She knew what was coming. This was why she hated cops. She had a feeling as soon as she got in his car she was going to have to earn to be uncuffed and let go. God, she hated cops.

"What the fuck are you talking about," okay maybe that had been the wrong thing to say she told herself when he brought out the handcuffs, cuffing her a little bit too tightly, "Are you serious? What the hell am I under arrest for?"

"Solicitation."

"Solicitation? Are you shitting me? Dude, I just got here, if you've been watching me for the fifteen minutes I've been standing here-."

Her protest and him citing her Miranda rights were interrupted by a deep even timbre, "What's going on Hale?"

Her body was jerked around to face that one biker from three days ago. Behind her aviators she blushed, instantaneously. Maybe because a familiar heat began to take hold in the bottom of her stomach and between her thighs. She frowned at the thought. That wasn't normal-at least not for her. It took her a while, normally, to warm up to somebody. Well, apparently not this somebody. When he looked her over briefly she wished she had been wearing a pair of jeans. She was in a faded blue tank dress, well it was more like an oversized top than an actual dress-as the hem barely covered the top of her thighs and it showed a fair hint of cleavage, and her leather jacket. The jacket belonged to her father. She had found it in the attic when she was twelve. But she still looked like a hooker.

"Not that it's any of your business. But I'm picking her up for solicitation."

"She wasn't soliciting."

"Oh really? Then what exactly was she doing," he asked with that same smirk on his face.

She was so tempted to kick this guy right in the balls. Talk about a douche on a power trip. Noting the tension in the air, she knew that maybe things were getting a little bit personal. Not that she was surprised. Bikers, and she was guessing these were outlaw bikers, and law enforcement didn't usually get along.

"Waiting for me. Weren't you Maggie?"

No one was as shocked as she was. First of all, he remembered her name. The man who currently had her arrested, she was guessing his name was Hale-first or last she wasn't sure, pinned him with a look that called bull shit. But she closed her mouth, her mother always said open mouths caught flies and gave a quick recovery.

"Yeah I was," to Hale she said, "I told you I wasn't soliciting."

"You two know each other?"

"Yes, now will you please uncuff me. And for your information, in order to pick someone up for solicitation you actually need to witness them solicit," she snapped at him as he uncuffed her. He speared the biker with a look before getting back in his car and speeding past the stop sign. See, that's exactly why she hated cops.

"Thanks," she told him, rubbing her wrists.

"No worries."

"I didn't catch your name last time."

"It's Opie."

"Opie," she quirked her head to the left and smiled, "Cute. Funny. But cute."

"So…were you soliciting," he asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. She picked her bag up and threw it over her chest then removed her sunglasses from her face and laughed.

"No, I wasn't soliciting."

She didn't miss the look he gave her. A look that said he knew better. She smiled, a great smile actually. He noted how young she looked. Her eyes, big green luminescent things, were young, looked innocent. But the rest of her, built for sin. Pouty lips and a body that could put any woman to shame.

"That's only something I do in dire situations. I was pretty banged up when you picked me up walking."

"Are you in dire situations often?"

"Honestly? A little more often than I like to be."

He didn't miss the way her hand clenched the strap on her bag. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five. Too young to be in dire situations that often. He put his hands in his pockets and looked across the street, eyeing a group of women who had stopped walking to stare. He frowned.

"How'd you get here?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she told him with a roll of her eyes, "but I walked."

"You walked? That's a good ten miles."

"That's why I got great legs. Look, I'm just passing through. Looking for a job-something legit. Need to rack up some cash."

"Before LA?"

"Preferably. Showing up broke in LA means that all I'm going to do is end up on another street corner. But this time…well, you know how the story goes."

He nodded, "Got a place to sleep?"

"I got some spare change for a motel room. Someone helped me out a few days ago."

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow before he smiled. Tugging at his hair, "Yeah about that."

"What? I'm not complaining that you paid me double."

"I wanted to help out a bit. You don't seem cut out for the life."

"Oh really, what gave that away? My smile. Or the fact that I'm a safety girl."

"Both. And, well…"

"You didn't expect me to be so tight. Well, I told you. I don't do it often. And I'm selective. I say when, I say who, and I say how much."

"You can afford to be selective?"

She shrugged and smiled again. Why was she always smiling? He picked her up on the side of the room with a busted lip and blood on her hands and knees. And he hadn't been so distracted while he was getting off that he didn't notice the large bruises on her back that looked like she had been punched or kicked a few times or the bruise on her arm. Yet she had still smiled at him before he left the motel. Almost like she knew just how much he was falling part and was offering some sort of small comfort. Now was not the time, with all the shit that was going on in his life, to be intrigued by a hooker. But before he could open his mouth to say goodbye he heard Jax call his name. He watched his best friend and his brothers saunter over to the two of them. Great, just fucking awesome.

"Ope-who's this?"

"Um…"

He didn't want to make introductions. He gave her a look that told her to introduce himself but she just gave him the same look back. She saw the vein in his forehead ticking and knew he was slightly annoyed so she rolled her eyes. Men.

"Hi. I'm Maggie," she said holding out her hand for a handshake. She didn't miss the VP patch the blond was wearing. If she had been her best friend April, she would've been all over that.

"Jax," he smirked and shaking her hand.

"Nice grip. A firm handshake says a lot about a person."

"Really, like what?"

"Strength. No BS-that type of thing."

Ope introduced Juice and Chibs but stepped in front of the Latino when he extended his hand. She didn't miss the smile that Chibs and Jax gave him. She chuckled under her breath.

"So how do you two know each other?"

"Just from around," Maggie intercepted and hastily changed the subject, "do you guys know anybody who's hiring-I'm looking for a job."

"How are you with filing, answering phones-that kind of thing?"

"Fine."

"Great, we're looking for a replacement for my mom over at Teller-Morrow. It's only temporary. But-."

"I'll take it. Beggars cannot be choosers."

"You can ride with me," Opie told her grimly, pinning Jax with a look that his brother knew would broker discussion.

Juice was about to open his mouth to say something stupid when he was struck dumb when Maggie walked straight over to Opie's bike. All three turned to each other with raised eyebrows. She knew his bike? Who was this chick? And why hadn't they heard about her? Where did the two of them meet? Obviously, if she could pick out his bike that "just from around" line was total bullshit. Oh, they were going to have fun with this one. A lot of fun.