Wow! Im blown away at the response. thank you :) heres some more Harlowe and Happy.
Harlowe sat down on her bunk after returning from visitation room, her mind a swirling mess from seeing Happy again. It'd been close to 12 years since she'd seen him last, the man was just getting better with age. When they first met he'd had thick black hair, that she used to love to run her hands through. He had ink but not nearly as much as he probably had at present if she went by the snake tattooed to his now bald skull. She couldn't deny what his palpable gaze did to her, the ache just a look from him caused. It was just like old times, when he'd walked into the bar she worked at all those years ago.
At twenty seven Happy was just a couple years older than her, but he'd seemed so much older. The life he led as a teenage delinquent and then as a Son definitely aged him, but he used to have this crazy spark in his eyes when he looked at her. He'd seemed like a kid at times when they'd eat take out and watch cartoons in their underwear. Harlowe was pretty sure not one of his brothers knew he spent Saturday mornings eating cereal and watching kid's programming.
Happy didn't seem to have that same spark in his eye when he sat down behind that plexiglass asking her for help, but he was still that roughly handsome man she'd fallen in love with.
"Asshole." She huffed, closing her eyes as she pictured him again for one long weak willed moment. Harlowe tried to keep from thinking about the outside world. It was the only way for her to survive prison, forgetting what was beyond the walls. It kept her sharp and free from self destructive thoughts about what could've or should've been. Harlowe focused on the present and near future, it kept her alive.
"So who was it?" Her celly asked from the top bunk, her head hanging over the edge. Freddie aka Fredrique Gonzalez was a petite brunette with tight cornrows and several gang tattoos on her neck and face.
Harlowe opened her eyes and looked at the younger woman she'd been housed with for the last few years.
"My ex." She replied blandly, sighing as Freddie instantly hopped down from the top.
"Your ex?" Freddie repeated with wide eyes, the inked tear at the corner of her eye rising with the motion. "Like the Ex?"
"Yep." Harlowe answered, flopping down onto her stiff mattress. "The Ex."
"How'd he look?"
"Sexy as fuck." Harlowe spoke with a sly smile, her green eyes flicking to Freddie's. "It's completely unacceptable."
Freddie chuckled, sitting down next to her on the bed. The pair of women grew close after the first year of bunking together, it's hard not to when you spend near twenty-four-seven with someone. Freddie was inside for armed robbery and assault with a deadly weapon. She'd been caught up in gang life far before her last arrest, her career of crime with Los Muertos spanning her whole adolescence and teenage years. After beating a man into a coma, Freddie robbed his store front with her then old man, Marcos. The couple was caught a few days later smoking the last of their meth. Freddie had a couple strikes against her already, which landed her in Chino Women's without a crew. It wasn't a full day until she received a beating that landed her inside the medical unit.
Freddie ended up in the kitchen after she recovered from the brutal beatdown by the rival gang housed in her unit. She was transferred into Harlowe's cell to prevent another incident. The pair struck up a friendship because of their joint hatred for the rival gang running rampant between the bars.
Harlowe had been working herself into a position in the kitchen, her goal of running contraband through the food deliveries falling into place with Frankie. It all started when she recognized the delivery driver from her days of bartending, the man having worked for the liquor supplier years ago. Harlowe saw an opportunity and took it swiftly by befriending the man who used to know her. With Freddie's connections outside the walls, the pair developed a steady flow of contraband. Mostly they brought in the little extravagances that women missed inside, makeup and food. Drugs happened across their throughways but Harlowe tried to keep her operations free of it. She didn't want to add more violence to the prison by fueling women with heavy narcotics.
"So what he want?"
"A favor." Harlowe grunted, scrubbing her face. "I gotta babysit some fresh meat."
"Seriously?" Freddie grumbled, standing up to pace the room a bit. "So what? Someone's old lady?"
"Probably." She sighed, sitting upright to watch her friend stressing. "He didn't say who's bitch she was."
"Fuck." Freddie grumbled, "that mean a cell change?"
"Maybe." Harlowe groaned, scratching at her own French braided hair. She'd learned very quickly when she entered prison that long flowing hair, that people can grab onto, was a detriment. "They might pull strings for that shit. If they got any in here."
"Man." Her celly whined, stomping her feet a bit. "This is bullshit, Lolo."
"Yeah well, it's not like I have a choice." Harlowe scoffed, part of her knowing she could've said no. She still wore Happy's ink but it'd been a long time since they were in a relationship. It would be near impossible for him to really do anything about her refusal and if she really thought about it, Happy wouldn't force her hand to help. However, with his sudden return after so long, Harlowe couldn't help but agree to it. She still loved the bastard, which was not much of a surprise to her.
"Sure you do, tell that sexy asshole no, you've already done enough for his boy's club. Fuck 'em." Freddie ranted, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Har, Har." She muttered, "You and I both know that ain't how it works. He's my ol' man."
"What's he gonna do? Hire some bitch to shank you? No. He's just gonna go bitch to his boys and hump some gash and get over it."
"Fred." Harlowe sighed, giving her a desperate look.
"Fine but it's shit. How're we gonna keep shit moving in, if they fuck up our system?"
"We'll figure it out, now will you sit the fuck down? I need a goddamn moment to think." Harlowe growled, laying down to process the torrent of emotions she was experiencing.
"You okay?" Freddie asked, noticing the pained expression on her friend's face.
"No." Harlowe groaned, rubbing her face roughly. "It's not fair."
"What?"
She sighed, her green eyes prickling behind her closed lids. "Still loving someone that ruined your life."
"What am I supposed to do, Lowe, just leave you here?" Happy snarled into the phone, while slamming his fist into the glass stretched between them . "I can't do that."
"Just tell yourself I'm dead, Happy. Cause I am or I will be. Feels like the only way I'm getting free from everything is in a body bag." She stood from the stationary metal stool, her green eyes glossy with tears.
Her cuffed hands held the receiver as she spoke softly to him. "I love you, Happy Lowman. Ever since I first laid eyes on you killer, it's always been you. If you love me too, you won't come back here, Hap. The outside can't exist now remember? An expert in this prison shit told me that once."
She placed her hand over the clenched fist pressed into the glass before hanging up and walking away.
"Goddamnit Lowe!" He shouted, slamming the phone into the glass. The guards shouted at him to stop as he threw it onto the counter in frustration. "Harlowe!"
Happy woke from the nightmare torn straight from his memory, a cold sweat chilling his feverish skin. He pushed himself upright and scrubbing his stubbly head and face roughly.
"Fuck." He huffed, digging his thumb and forefinger into his eye sockets to rub away the prickling he'd deny existed.
It'd been awhile since his last nightmare about Harlowe. Mostly he had warped sex dreams of her doing the deviant shit he'd gotten up to in the last handful of years. Having Tig as his wingman had probably been a poor life choice in hindsight, the two not leveling each other off in the slightest. More like spinning already spun tops. Freak circle indeed.
Climbing from bed, Happy stretched and groaned his way into the bathroom for a piss and a shower. He did the normal regimen mechanically, every movement similar to the morning prior and so on.
He figured that his habitual nature for grooming and his tidy surroundings probably had to do with the somewhat chaotic life the club led. It was also probably why he was so drawn to Harlowe in the first place. She'd been a girl next door type of woman, without the drama that club gash drowned themselves in. Happy met her one evening while on a run with his brother's. The cute early twenty something bartended at a shithole in Northern California that was often frequented by SAMTAC on their way to the south.
Happy had recently patched into Tacoma, his sponsor Poe having just secured his SAA position took a special interest in him. Full of young bravado and pride for the kutte he wore, Happy was reaping the benefit of all the easy pussy being thrown his way.
When he laid eyes on Harlowe though, it was like every other chick in the joint disappeared. He was captivated.
Her brunette hair was twisted up into a ponytail showing off her soft pale neck. There was an appealing softness to her curves that hooked his gaze whenever she'd walk passed. He'd stared at her easy smile and light green eyes as she chatted up customers. She seemed to light up the dreary bar with her big grins and loud laughter. Happy wasn't a big talker but he liked listening to her, even when it was about fuck all. She had a pleasant rhythm and when she laughed...fuck, Happy could listen to that all day. It was wide and free, full of some kind of light he hadn't known he was missing in his life.
He hadn't thought he'd have a chance with her but fate handed him the perfect opening in the form of a drunk asshole with too many hands. The asshole cornered her that evening and Happy intervened, but not before she'd been backhanded by the prick.
After beating the shit out of the bastard behind the bar, Happy joined her in the kitchen to wash his bloody hands.
Harlowe had a towel filled with ice pressed to her cheek as Happy washed up. He slid his dark eyes to the girl and found her staring back with those vibrant green eyes. He expected fear, but all he saw was concern.
"Are you hurt?" Harlowe asked, her eyes creased in worry.
Happy couldn't stop the loud bark of laughter erupting at her question. "That pussy couldn't hurt me."
Harlowe frowned and winced when it moved her cheek. "Well, he hurt me."
The sentence might as well have slapped him in the face. Happy stepped forward and pulled the makeshift ice pack from her cheek. She was right, the bastard had hurt her and the sight of the bruise forming had his blood pressure rising again.
"Shoulda killed the fucker." He growled, his thumb brushing gently across it. "Bruised you real good."
"Yeah, doesn't feel too great." She murmured, chewing her lip nervously as she looked away from his penetrative stare. Happy was used to people looking away from him when he stared, his black eyes off putting to most. It was the first time he couldn't stand the sight of someone being afraid of him.
Happy leaned forward and lightly kissed the vivid purple marring her soft skin. "M'sorry he hurt you."
When she tilted her face up, Happy took the opportunity to press his lips to hers. Harlowe froze for a moment before her hands landed on his chest, curling into his kutte as her mouth opened willingly. Happy moaned with delight as her greedy tongue twisted with his.
"Fucking hell." He growled as he grabbed a handful of her ass aggressively. "Been eyeing this ass all night."
"It living up to expectations?" She gasped as he hiked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.
"Yes it is." Happy replied, flashing her a Cheshire grin after smacking it.
The memories of that evening tumbled through his head all morning, only to be shoved away when he sat down with a distraught Jax.
"I can't get Tara into your old lady's cell." He growled, lighting up another cigarette to add to the growing pile in the ashtray before him. "Our only inside man is sayin' shits tightly controlled."
"I can see if she has any pull with the guards." Happy offered, his heartbeat accelerating at the idea of speaking to her again.
"Was she open to that?"
Happy shrugged a bit to the question, not knowing if she had agreed because she wanted to or if she only felt obligated. "Probably obligated." He thought to himself resignedly.
"I'll reach out and see."
"Thanks, Hap." Jax rasped, scrubbing his face. "I don't know how you did this shit."
"What?"
"Watchin' your ol' lady go inside." Jax replied, stubbing out his spent butt.
Happy clenched his fists and replied, "ain't no easy way, brother."
"I hear you." Jax muttered, shaking his head slightly in thought. "How'd you cope when she cut you off? I couldn't handle that shit when she went to county. Now she's goin' into hard time and I can't get my fuckin' head straight with it."
Happy shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with speaking about his personal shit. He wasn't one to gossip and bitch about the things in his life. He usually bottled it up and used it for later on people that deserved it, but his President was facing some hard times and he couldn't leave a brother hanging. The club and his brothers came first over personal feelings.
"It'll be hard at first." Happy began, his eyes crinkling as he thought about the first few months of her incarceration. "You'll forget she's gone and look for her. Then you get pissed, pissed that she's in there and pissed that you can't just fix it. If she stops seeing you... eventually you get numb to it. Numb to missin' her and numb to the anger of her cuttin' you out of her life. You'll fill your days with club shit 'n easy pussy to forget that you had somethin' real. Somethin' worth the risk. Ain't no easy way through it, brother. You just gotta do your time. Just like she does."
Jax nodded a bit at his words and rasped, "You should've told us, Hap."
"Not anyone's business but mine."
"Maybe we could've done something."
"Ain't nothing to do." Happy grunted, pushing himself up from his seat. "Just hope she's got a clean enough record to get paroled in a few years."