A/N: I wasn't going to post this up yet because I haven't managed to get more than chapter four finalised, but I didn't want to keep any of the lovely people who reviewed waiting (thanks for those reviews guys, as Mark Twain said "I can live for two months on a good compliment"). I hope some of your questions can be answered in this chapter.


It turns out that Charming isn't actually all that charming. At least, the place I was to call home for the next 18 months wasn't. I suppose I didn't really have much reason to complain, the small house was better than a hotel and bigger than an apartment. I may have been the only person who was going to be living there but I liked to spread my shit out.

Once the realtor had finished showing me the many delights of the house, which included four (tiny) bedrooms, a bathroom, a lounge, dining room and kitchen, it was still only four in the afternoon.

I slipped on a pair of boots and grabbed my leather jacket before locking the front door and surveying the street. I vaguely remembered the realtor telling me that the centre of town was about 10 minutes walk east of the house.

The houses along what I guessed I could now call 'my' street were all pretty similar. Red brick one-storey structures that had seen better days. Another few minutes of walking and I was in a slightly better street, the lawns here were well manicured and most of the houses were two storey.

The sight of a shiny motorcycle in the front yard of one of the houses momentarily stopped me in my tracks before I shook my head and told myself I was being silly – what were the odds that the guy I had bolted from yesterday lived in Charming?

By the time I reached the supermarket in the centre of town I was convinced that the realtor was a lying bitch. My t-shirt was stuck to my skin and my jacket was making me almost unbearably hot but I really didn't want to take it off because I was pretty sure I was sporting some impressive sweat patches. Gross.

"Ten minutes my ass" I muttered as I headed towards the inviting cool air coming from the dairy section.

After grabbing eggs, milk, bread and a dozen other food staples I headed towards one of the cashiers.

"Hi! How are you today?" She greeted airily.

I think she must have thought I was a bit odd due to my lack of response. I didn't care because I was too busy staring at the two motorcycles parked out the front of the glass doors. How had I missed those?

"That'll be $37.85 thanks".

"Miss?"

"Miss?"

"MISS!"

"WHAT?" I snapped at the cashier and she gave me glare as I shoved some bills into her hand.

"Say, is there a liquor store nearby?"

I was feeling the need for something stronger than beer tonight and was slightly offended when the cashier slapped my change on the counter and just pointed rudely behind her.

Assuming the she meant the liquor store was a few blocks away I picked up my change and groceries and began walking.

After wandering aimlessly for fifteen minutes it occurred to me that I might be lost. Charming may be a small town but the less than charming cashier had not been exactly detailed when giving me 'directions' to the liquor store. I decided to ask the nearest place that was open for better directions; having passed a mechanic's about a minute earlier I doubled back and was just heading towards the driveway of 'Teller-Morrow Automotive' when two motorcycles rode past. Both of the riders glanced my way as they passed.

Perverts.

The all too familiar instinct to freeze took hold as the bike in front slowed and its owner turned to look at me. The rider on the one behind yelled out above the roar of the engines.

"Hey Ope! Why'd you slow up?"

By now the first rider, Ope or whatever, had turned his bike round. I saw him speak to the other guy out of my peripheral vision.

"Nothing to worry about Jax, I just remembered there's something I gotta take care of".

And just like that I turned on my heel and started to power walk in the opposite direction. All the while having a mini mental breakdown.

'Take care of? What the fuck does that mean? Isn't that like slang for killing someone? Or is it just the mafia who use that expression?'

I pulled my house keys out of the front pocket of my shorts and jammed three of the keys through my fingers as a weak form of weapon.

The guy on the bike was following me, I could tell that by the slow rumble of his engine which indicated he was riding along at less than a mile per hour. However, I refused to confirm this fact by turning to look at him.

I picked up my pace and was pleased when the sound of the engine cut out. He must have given up following, or more likely hadn't been following me in the first place. I was being paranoid, although dyeing my red hair a nice shade of mousy brown seemed like a good idea. Much less conspicuous.

I was lost in my thoughts when someone called out my name.

"Jessica! Jessica Richards!"

Instinct caused me turn around. It was that 'Ope' guy. He walked quickly toward me and didn't stop until he was well inside my personal space boundaries.

"How do you know my name?" I demanded, craning my neck to look up at him.

'Oh fuck! It's that guy from yesterday! Oh my god he is going to kill me. I'm going to die. This is the end. Goodbye life. Goodbye family, well great aunt Angie anyway. I will be dug up in three years time and be the subject of an 'unsolved murders' documentary.'

My thought process continued to get more and more irrational until I was jerked out of my overly dramatic state by my future murderer's response. Or perhaps his name was Opie, as the patch on his leather vest suggested, although I didn't think many murder victims were on a first name basis with the people who killed them.

"It's amazing what you can learn from running someone's plates, Jessica Richards of 164 Westbridge Street...would you like me to continue with your home address? Or maybe your work one?"

I opened my mouth but no sound came out.

"I think we need to have a talk, over here"

Opie steered me into a small alley between two buildings. I didn't think this was a good place for me to be going but I was too petrified to think of a means of escape. Besides the guy knew where I lived. What the fuck was I going to do – go on the run like some kind of criminal?

The irony of having to go on the run from a criminal for being a good citizen was not lost on me. Neither was the fact that Opie had stopped walking us into the alley and still hadn't let go of my upper arm. This prompted me to find my speaking voice.

"Jesus! You have to hold on so tight? I bruise easily!"

Opie let go of my arm and I relaxed. That is, until he backed me up against the wall, his arms on either side of my head, effectively trapping me. I tried to duck under his right arm but he just lowered his elbow slightly, making it level with my jaw. I turned back to him to find his face inches from mine.

'Shit' was the only thought that came to mind. The beard, the beanie, the smell of leather, cigarettes, and sandalwood – all I could see was him slicing up that guy's stomach.

"You know Jessica..."

He only got those three words out before I interrupted him.

"It's Jess"

The instant the words were out of my mouth I regretted saying them. Like I needed to antagonise the guy anymore.

Opie looked slightly taken aback for a moment before continuing.

"I'll call you what I want – got it?"

I nodded in reply and attempted to melt into the wall.

"A funny thing happened to me yesterday Jessica. I went to an abandoned gravel loader, only there was someone else already there. A woman who looked like she wouldn't have a clue what a gravel loader was and when I asked her what she was doing there she yelled at me. Then she took off in her car, but not before running over my bike."

'I barely knocked it' - I wisely kept this thought to myself rather than say it out loud.

As if to make sure I died of fright Opie closed the gap between us until there was only an inch of space, the scent of sandalwood and cigarette smoke intensifying as he did so.

I increased my efforts to melt into the brick behind me as his voice dropped a little lower.

"Do you know what happens to people who run over my bike?"

I had a feeling I was about to find out. Trapped and seeing nothing to lose I let fly my inner smart ass.

"Oh I don't know, maybe you shoot them and then carve your initials into their stomach or some shit like that".

That was the wrong fucking thing to say. Opie leaned back from me slightly as what I'd said registered. He seemed to struggle with something before suddenly punching the brick wall beside my left ear. That was it. I dropped my shopping bags and took off like a bullet from a fucking gun. I bolted around the corner of the alley and scrambled over a wire fence a few feet away in a very unladylike manner.

I didn't realise how scared I'd been until I realised I'd run for fifteen minutes solid and had reached my front door. Panting heavily, I bolted all the windows and doors and then locked myself in the bathroom.

I slept in the bathtub that night.

Seven hours of trying to get comfortable in a confined space and I was over being scared. I was fucking pissed off. Who did that dickhead think he was? Assuming I'd go to the cops?

Although, to be fair how was he to know that my only encounter with our great justice system had left me less than confident in the idea of criminals getting what they deserved?

I was just pouring myself my morning coffee when the doorbell rang. I figured it was the realtor dropping off the papers for the house, but when I opened the door it turned out to be another bikie. My morning dose of caffeine had not been absorbed yet and I was not in the mood to be intimidated. Even the knife hanging off of the guy's belt failed to scare me.

"Shit. What the hell do you want? Your complete dick of a friend scares the shit out of me and now you want a go too?" I snapped.

I remembered the guy's name was Jack or Jax or something like that. He didn't say anything but handed me a grocery bag. The gesture threw me off guard.

"What's this for?" I asked warily.

Jax attempted a flirty smile before answering.

"Just a replacement for the groceries you dropped yesterday. Think of it as a peace offering, wouldn't want Charming's latest resident to complain about SAMCRO's behaviour now would we darlin'?"

I took what he said as it was meant. Don't say anything. Shut up if you know what's good for you.

Unfortunately for Jax I was still pissed off and what he'd just said had made it worse.

"Yeah well you and SAMCRO, whatever that stands for, can shove your groceries where the sun don't shine for all I care. I am not a rat! How dare you assume that I'd go running to the police about what I saw? Does the phrase 'innocent bystander' mean anything to you?"

He looked stunned and I took the opportunity to shove the bag of groceries back at his chest. I heard the eggs crack as I continued yelling.

"Why would I go to the cops? Not that I don't have a good reason to considering that that Opie guy fucking gutted someone!"

'Gutted' may have been a strong word and I may have been a bit melodramatic. After all, Jax had come to give me groceries and I had started to borderline shriek at him.

"What the f-" was all he managed to get out before I slammed the door shut, locking it again.

I thought it a bit rude to leave his question unanswered so I opened the door until the chain on it was taut.

"I said shove it up your ass dickhead. I'm not going to tell anyone shit! So you and your psycho buddies leave me the hell alone!"

As an afterthought I added "And don't call me 'darlin'!"

Slamming the door in his face I turned to lean my back against it, breathing heavily. After a minute I heard the rumble of an engine coming to life. As it faded into the distance I regretted giving back the groceries, it was already ten and I was starving. Looked like it was going to be leftover pizza for breakfast.

I did housework for the rest of the day. Steve hadn't called to say when I needed to start with the plans for the house so until then I was free to waste time as much as possible.

It was five before I looked up from scrubbing the kitchen floors. I was sweating from working all day and decided to jump in the shower so as not to offend anyone at the supermarket. Unless I wanted pizza for the third time that day I knew I'd have to go get groceries some time soon.

The hot shower helped to ease the ache in some of my muscles. Working all day coupled with all the running had really shown just how unfit I was. I promised start running in the mornings as I dried myself off. I also promised to go shopping the next day, I couldn't be bothered doing it that evening. Instead I ordered Chinese and had it delivered.