I was so overwhelmed by the wonderful feedback just from Chapter 1. You guys are amazing!

I've determined updates every Monday. I travel often through different countries and time zones, so it will be Mondays for me, wherever I am.

I took some creative liberty with this chapter (not much, don't worry).

None of this belongs to me except Adelaide and her car.

Enjoy!


Hotel California

" And I was thinking to myself,

'This could be heaven or this could be hell.' "

~ Hotel California, Eagles ~


Tig was the first one to let her ride his bike without him on it. The only one, actually, and just around the TM lot, but it was still a rush like no other she'd experienced yet. The machine purred beneath her body, responding to her easily and obediently.

Jax reclined lazily on the picnic table bench beside Tig, watching her. "You let her ride your bike?"

Tig shrugged. "She asked me to teach her."

Jax scoffed lightly. "You're brave, bro."

Tig's lips curled wickedly. "She knows the consequences for causing any damages."

Jax arched a brow, eyeing his brother with amused skepticism. "Do I even want to know?"

"No," Tig still had that disconcerting grin. "And neither does she."

Jax shook his head. "You are one sick bastard."

"All perspective, brother."

They both chuckled.

Allie returned the bike carefully to its parking space, hopping off and near dancing over to them. "Thank you, Mr. Tigger." She handed him the helmet. "It was amazing."

Tig scanned his bike with the scrutiny of a suspicious man. "No damage?"

"Nothing." She was beaming almost proudly. "I have to get to the office." She gave the curly-haired man a quick kiss on the cheek, and Jax an affectionate tug on his hair before turning and scampering to the garage.

In the two weeks she'd been living in the clubhouse, she'd turned from refined and restrained, to carefree and bouncy. It was amusing and almost endearing. Chibs and Tig definitely got a kick out of it, and she had even drawn a smile out of Clay once. Bobby and Piney tolerated the bundle of energy she'd become, and Half-Sac and Juice were simply thrilled to have a sort of playmate.

Jax shook his head slightly. Hell, even his mom had gone from calling her 'the harlot' to 'the rich bitch.' Not a big improvement, but a noticeable one.

Tig clapped him on the shoulder. "We have the boys from Tacoma coming in tonight. We should help get things ready."

"Yeah," he stubbed out the last of his cigarette and stood.

The little debutante's first biker party. He would definitely be watching her tonight, just to see if her reactions would be as entertaining as he hoped.

###

Queenie was the one to help Adelaide get ready. She was a dark-haired beauty, with long lashes and an enticing softness to her body.

While Adelaide showered, she spent a good amount of energy tearing her closet apart. The redhead exited her bathroom to find most of her clothes piled on one end of her bed, a few pieces laid carefully out.

Queenie stood by, looking for all the world a commander ready to direct battle. "Your first club party tonight, hun. We gotta make sure you look good as shit."

Adelaide smiled, moving to inspect the clothing displayed. They were black and bordering raunchy; the most scandalous bits of clothing she owned, and still pretty conservative when compared to what she'd learned was normal for the crow eaters.

There was a pleated skirt of black leather, a faux-jean button up, a crocheted dress that was actually intended to be a swimsuit coverall, and a set of black lingerie—presumably to go under the coverall.

Adelaide laughed. "The skirt, please, Queenie."

The crow eater sighed, obviously gunning for the other outfit. After Adelaide had put on the top and bottom, the other woman went to work, sexing it up. The skirt waistband was rolled up so the length was shortened, the shirt was half buttoned and tied off, leaving stomach and some cleavage bare.

Adelaide sighed when she reached for heels. "Sneakers, please, Queenie."

Another sigh and pout, but the dark-haired woman did as asked. "Now, fix your hair up real good how I know you can do, and do your make-up. We're getting some dick tonight."

Adelaide laughed again. "No, thank you. I'll flirt with some, though."

"Bitch," Queenie collapsed dramatically onto the bed. "You need some dick. How long's it been for you anyways?"

"A year and a half," Adelaide carefully plaited her hair into two French braids.

Queenie whistled. "I'd die."

The redhead just laughed.

###

There were…

A lot.

A lot of unfamiliar bikers, unfamiliar women, unfamiliar faces. And just as much as the familiar.

Adelaide tugged gently on her friend's arm. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable like this, Queenie. I've never worn something so revealing."

The crow eater rolled her eyes. "You look hot. I'd fuck you. Come on."

They passed Bobby, face down between a woman's legs, and Tig, being petted and nuzzled by two striking blondes while a third lovingly stroked his hair. Chibs and Juice were part of the raucous crowd at the bar, and Clay was discussing something with one of the unfamiliars.

Adelaide continued her study as Queenie led her through the crowd. Piney had a young brunette on his lap and Jax was settled onto a sofa, murmuring things in one of the familiar girls' ear. She giggled and blushed red, and Adelaide snickered.

And he claimed not to be a flirt.

"Allie!" The cry was from Half-Sac, pushing his way through the crowd. His call was loud enough to be heard over the music, and a few others turned in their direction.

Drunk Half-Sac was an affectionate Half-Sac, and he swept both her and Queenie into a hug before stepping back to eye them appreciatively. "You look fucking hot."

Queenie gave Adelaide a superior glare. "I said the same thing."

Half-Sack grinned at the dark-haired beauty. "You're hot, too."

"I know."

His grin widened. "Come drink with us," and she was being pulled away from Queenie to the bar. The other woman let her go, sending her a wink. Adelaide sighed; heavens above but she thought that she was actually going to sleep with Half-Sac.

Chibs and Juice welcomed her ecstatically, the Scotsman grabbing her and setting her on the bar with surprising ease. He made a show of examining her, playfully fingering the hem of her skirt. "A bit short for you, ain't it, Allie?"

She slapped his hand away, smiling to show no insult. "I think it looks good."

Chibs gave her an incredulous look. "So does everyone else."

"That's the point?" It came out more as a question, and he laughed, setting her carefully back on the floor.

"Go enjoy the party."

She managed to make it outside, where it was less claustrophobic. One of the unfamiliar men, introduced as Happy, pulled her under his arm, staking a temporary claim.

"I'm not having sex with you."

He chuckled at her blunt statement. "I know."

"Good."

A hand landed on her lower back, pulling her intimately close. "Do you dance?"

Of course she danced. "Not to this music."

Oh, it would piss off the boys, that was for sure, but one daring look shared with Happy and she eased over to the sound system, deftly changing the music. Rock turned to something with more beat and quicker tempo, and everyone paused, looking around in confusion.

Not wasting a moment, Adelaide grabbed her companion's hands. "Do you dance, Mr. Happy?"

He grinned and swept her into a dance of undulating and spinning, seduction and inferno incarnate. They had an audience, but he was drunk enough on alcohol he didn't care, and she was drunk enough on exhilaration she wanted them to watch.

It was a dance of sex, one she'd learned in her high school years and never been brave enough to do with someone of the opposite sex. But Happy knew her boundaries and he knew the dance, giving as good as she gave, keeping up step for step.

She spun, he pulled her back. She dipped, he arched her up. Hips rotating and brushing, hands and heat and breath shared, and the song ended with nothing but imagination between them.

If only to egg on the watchers, she gave him a kiss. Quick and shy and barely even anything, but there were whoops and hollers, and he winked at her before letting her out of his grasp.

The rock music resumed, and she giggled, shaking with adrenaline and vivification. A drink; that would help. Just a club soda, but still something.

A body crowded behind her as she rejoined Chibs at the bar. Juice had been enticed off by Queenie, and they were happily occupying a pool table.

"You should dance with me, darlin.'"

Of course. She laughed, still giddy off the dance. "You and I have different definitions of dance."

Jax's hand pressed lightly on her bare midriff. "Your place or mine?" A joke, since their rooms were side-by-side.

Her breath stuttered and heat tingled down her legs. "Neither."

His hand inched lower. "Why not?"

She turned around then, realizing her mistake when he loomed large and consuming over her. "I hear every girl you have sex with." They shared a moment of amusement. "I don't want to catch anything. And I don't kiss smokers."

"You don't have to kiss me."

"No."

"Just a little fun, princess."

"No."

He sighed and stepped away. "You win."

"I know." She snickered. "You're drunk, Jax. You'll get over it by morning."

He gave one last pout and wandered back to the pretty girl waiting on the sofa for him. Chibs laughed. "Way to go, lass. He's too used to getting what he wants."

She shrugged, looking at her friend with amusement. "I'm not one of the bar girls. He knows that."

"That's why he wants ye."

She snorted laughter and finished her club soda. "Would you like to dance with me, Chibs?"

"Aye."

As it turned out, one could dance to rock, especially with a drunk Scot as their partner.

###

Juice was awake surprisingly early and chipper for one who'd passed out drunk at three in the morning. Allie met him in the garage, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hair was still in the two braids, now ruffled. Without the makeup she usually wore, and in clothes that were more casual than she usually wore, her overall appearance was rumpled.

Juice grinned. "Good news, Allie. Car's fixed."

She perked up immediately. "Really?"

"Yep. Just finished." He tossed her the key and she scrambled to her beloved car, sliding into the driver's seat. It rumbled quietly to life around her and she gestured Juice to the passenger's side.

"Get in."

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

She grinned. "You boys and your fancy bikes; let me show you how pretty girls have their fun."

He shrugged and returned her grin, tossing the rag draped over his shoulder aside and sliding in beside her. "Where are we going?"

"Nowhere," and a secret smile curled on her lips at that memory.

Juice shrugged again, buckling in. "Nowhere is good."

By now, she had ridden with them enough to know where the safe spots were for questionable activity. Not that they had let her witness anything incriminating, but directions to such places had been provided. Just in case.

Down the barely-awake streets of Charming and onto the highway. The shift switched gears easily without sticking, the windows were down and sunroof open, and there was nothing but road and desert and sky.

Juice's grin had only gotten wider as they went, and as she took a suggested-45-mph turn at ninety-seven, an odd sound pulled from his throat. A soft whine of freedom and unadulterated joy, and he unbuckled and leaned precariously out the window, and she didn't stop him.

There was an exit to one of those safe places, and she did a heel-toe shift to make the turn, almost throwing Juice out the window. He braced on the door and whooped and she laughed loudly.

This.

This is what she hadn't ever had.

They pulled into the area with a trail of dust, and she brought the car to a gentle stop. Juice slid back into his seat, chest heaving with exhilaration. "What else can you do?"

He was addicted, just as she was. Thrill and eagerness sparked in her eyes. "Buckle in, love."

###

No one was too concerned when they found Juice missing. And Allie's car. And Allie.

It was almost eleven when they finally pulled back in, though, the car covered in dust, both windswept and rosy-cheeked and looking almost intoxicated.

Tig eyed them. "What were you children doing?"

Juice shook his head incredulously, moving further into the clubhouse and gabbing a beer. "She can drive, bro."

An almost embarrassed smile curled her lips. Chibs flicked his gaze between them from where he was slouched on the bar. "What do you mean? Of course she can drive."

"No," Juice took a sip, shaking his head. "She can drive. Better than Jax."

"No one's better than me," Jax's voice came around the corner before he did. He nodded greeting to his brothers and winked at Allie.

Juice was adamant. "You need to ride with her. Seriously."

Jax sauntered over to the bar, clapping Chibs on the shoulder. The Scot groaned and the Viking chuckled. "I'll definitely ride her."

Allie didn't bother to hide her smile. "You're all foul."

Jax gulped a large glass of water and straightened. "Let's go, then."

Everyone just stared. It was Tig who asked, almost warily, "Go where?"

Jax met Allie's gaze, taking a moment to notice that this was the most unkempt he'd ever seen her, and it was still more put together than most of the women in Charming. Even with ruffled braids, no makeup, and vaguely casual clothing, she looked ready for a day of negotiating peace treaties.

Ever the society girl.

"Show me your driving."

She eyed him. "Really?"

"I need to see if Juice is lying."

"He isn't." It wasn't a boast, simply a statement of fact.

Jax grinned. "Prove it."

She shrugged. "Okay."

###

She could drive.

Juice hadn't been lying. She knew her car, and she knew her skills, and she knew how to put both to good use.

And he, ever the entrepreneur, suddenly knew how to put her to good use.

Once back at the clubhouse, he pulled her into an empty apartment. "I have a new job offer."

She was smart enough to be hesitant. "What is it?"

"We put boxes or brothers in your car. You drive from point A to point B. No questions, no peeking." The last bit was said sternly enough to promise retribution, but playfully enough to continue their game of flirting.

Allie was quiet for a long moment. "If my car gets damaged again, I can't pay for the repair. It'll be a few months before I'm even able to cover this payment."

"Anything that happens on the job is fixed for free."

"Will I get arrested?"

"No." Not if you're smart, is what he didn't say. She heard it, anyways.

"Will I get hurt?"

"Maybe."

There was a moment of silence. "If you provide a weapon, I'll do it."

Jax studied her. Another piece of the puzzle that she was started sliding into place. "You can shoot?"

"Yes." She hesitated again, then offered, "My mother taught me. She taught me to drive, too."

"Jesus, what did the Army have your mom do?"

Something secretive and amused glimmered in her eyes. "Classified."

His lips curled up. "Yes, I'll get you a gun."

"Yes, I'll take the job."

"I'll have to take it to the table," Jax reminded her.

She held his gaze steady. "So, do that and let me know."

His smile softened to something bordering on affectionate. "Yes, ma'am."

They rejoined the others in time to hear Juice recounting his morning adventure with her once more, with as much exuberance as before.

###

Jax used Clay's questions of 'anymore business?' to bring forward his idea of hiring Allie as a driver. Juice backed him up immediately, having experienced what he had, and Tig was only a second behind. The man trusted her with his bike; he knew she had skills.

Piney, quiet and considering, asked, "What if she gets caught?"

"She won't." Of that, Jax was sure. She was too clever.

Clay leaned both elbows on the table. "You're suggesting we bring her in on the gun-running."

"Maybe," Jax made an open gesture. "She drives part of the route to a drop-off, where a few brothers pick it up. Or, she serves as a get-away driver. Or, we use her for smuggling."

Chibs tapped a finger on the table. "It would work."

"I have to see her drive." Clay paused. "And we should see how she drives when surrounded by bikes."

Inching closer to a 'yes,' and Jax pressed harder. "Look, Mini Coopers were originally designed to be racing cars. They're built to go fast and take turns, and she knows how to do it." He looked around the table, seeking approval. "Her only stipulation is we give her a gun."

Clay was quiet for a moment. "Little rich bitch knows how to shoot? I ain't arming a wannabe rebel."

"Yes." Jax pulled her notebook from his lap and set it on the table. "She's said we can look through this. It's all her records. Everything she's calculated and kept track of since she began planning her escape from her dad. She has a good plan, it's just slowed down by lack of money. She drives, we pay her, she can get out more quickly."

There was a moment of silence as the notebook was passed around and flipped through. Rows and columns of meticulous calculations and carefully planned routes and timings.

It was Bobby who suggested, "Let's have her drive us out to one of our ranges. There's room there where she can show us her fancy driving, and then she can show us her shooting."

That was met with a unanimous 'yea,' and Jax tapped the table victoriously. Clay nodded and brought down the gavel. "That's it, then. It's Sunday tomorrow; the ice cream shop is closed. We'll take her then."

It was an unspoken dismissal and movement filled the room. Clay waved Jax back, and the latter reclined into his chair, lighting a cigarette. Bobby closed the chapel doors, leaving the father-son pair alone.

Jax raised his eyebrows. "What's this about?"

"This girl, Allie," Clay waved a hand dismissively. "You're talking about bringing her into club business."

Jax didn't falter. "I know."

That obviously wasn't the answer Clay wanted. "We don't bring outsiders in on any of our business."

"She's been here for two weeks. When we vote in members, they're put in business immediately." There was one big hole in his argument, though.

"Those men have already been part of the club. New men are brought in as prospects, and spend a year being vetted."

Jax's cheek ticked. "Look, man, she's good. While she's living here, we may as well put her to use."

Clay's carefully controlled anger was spiraling upwards beside Jax's. "So, throw her in with the crow eaters. Boys love fresh pussy."

"Part of our agreement with her is we don't do that," Jax was shaking his head. "She doesn't ask questions, she's smart, and she'll do what we say because we control almost her entire life right now."

It was a twisted truth, but truth it was. Clay knew that and sighed. "If I like how she works, we'll bring it to the table for the deciding vote."

Jax relaxed, conceding with a small tilt of his head. "That's all I'm asking for, brother."

Clay nodded back, all anger between them settled. "C'mon, son." He stood with a groan, leading the way out.

###

Tig had volunteered to be the one to shoot Allie off the road if she got too unnerved while going down the road with them. Not because he thought he'd have to, but because he knew he wouldn't. He'd seen the confidence she moved with. He'd let her on his bike at her playful pleading, and watched as she'd maneuvered it with all the love an owner had for its pet.

She drove the same way. When Chibs pulled up beside her, close enough to touch, she rolled down the window and held out a hand, they clasped fingers for just a moment before he veered off and sped up.

Clay was, for once, riding in the midst of them. It allowed him to watch her, unorthodox as it was. He was the next one to pull up beside her, but rather than playful, he jerked his bike towards her in a version of Chicken.

She held steady, giving him a mildly amused look, adjusting just enough he wouldn't sheer off her side-view mirror.

The real work of impressiveness, though, happened in a dusty lot with old, dirty warehouses.

Bikes parked, they waited while she parked and got out. Tig's eyes slanted against the sun as he studied her.

Dark red hair was coiled into a quick bun, held together with a stick through the middle. Light jeans and a soft-looking blouse fluttered in the quiet breeze. He found it amusing: over the past two weeks she had attempted to tone down her blatantly upper-class wardrobe, and hadn't quite succeeded. Hell, even her shoes, what she was sure to think were simple, everyday sneakers, were better-made and fancier than anything one could get in Charming.

Her eyes were hidden behind large, dark sunglasses, but an anticipatory smile curled on her lips happily.

Clay rested his helmet on his bike, moving towards her. She met him in the middle. "Who rides with me?"

"I will."

She hesitated for a moment. "You may not fit, Clay. My car is made for small."

He scoffed laughter. "I'll ride."

"Okay." She danced back to her car, "Let's go, then."

It was wild, watching her weave between the warehouses. They had climbed onto the roof of one, allowing them view of the full course she was driving.

Dust.

Dust and light flashing off metal as it wove between structures in a way that was impossible even for motorcycles.

It was beautiful to watch. For men who spent their days longing for wind and speed, it was so easy to appreciate what she could do. Her own form of wind and speed.

Jax had a terribly smug grin curling his lips. Tig and Chibs shared a knowing, victorious look.

The real victory, though, came when Tig put a gun in her hand. They watched silently as Allie took the weapon apart methodically and practiced, checking everything over before putting it back together just as quickly.

She did have training, then, to do that with such precise movements.

Then she actually fired the weapon. It hit dead center of the target. And again, dead center. And again. And again. For all ten bullets in the magazine.

She lowered the gun, and a moment of silence followed. Rather than clustered bullet holes, one large hole was in place of the exact center. Bobby let out a low whistle and Jax's self-satisfaction was near tangible.

Clay looked at his VP, a question in his face. He got a half shrug in response. "She said her mother taught her to drive and shoot."

"Jesus," there was no doubt Clay was viewing Allie slightly differently now, "what the hell did her mother do?"

"I think," Chibs chimed in, "we should wonder more about what her mother taught her."

###

Adelaide was a favorite of the children who ran through Gramma's Cold Cream. With her pretty clothes and pretty hair, it was easy for them to make believe princesses and cowboys.

A deputy, Hale, would come in, too. They talked. She had pulled him aside one evening, quietly explaining the situation with her family, conveniently leaving out her connection to the MC. She was a city girl, yes, but she wasn't a clueless girl.

"Evening, Allie."

She kissed a little girl's nose and sent her away giggling. "Good evening, deputy. How may I help you?"

"Just a chocolate shake, please." Hale slid into a stool at the bar. "So, there's been some talk around town. They've seen you riding with some of the Sons."

"Yes," Adelaide was never one to hide truth. "I do."

He hesitated, cornflower eyes tracking her movements with calculation. "You know the things they do, right?"

Adelaide glanced at him over her shoulder, playful smile on her lips. "I work in the office of the garage."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Your question was rather vague." She slid him the shake and a spoon.

He chuckled. "Suppose it was. I'm talking about their illegal things."

Adelaide tilted her head. "Illegal things?" Suspecting wasn't the same as knowing. She suspected many things. She would never ask for confirmation. Not knowing was her safety net.

Hale sighed deeply and quietly tucked into his shake. "You're a good kid, Allie."

She grinned. "Thank you."

He finished and stood, placing a wad of cash on the counter. "Stay out of trouble."

"You know, I've always wanted to ride in a police car." She leaned across the counter and winked at him.

He paused, turning to just stare, before shaking his head and chuckling. "What time do you get off."

Her eyes widened in delight at the implications of his question. "Midnight. You have night patrol?"

"I can."

"And you'll take me in the police car?"

"I will. For ten minutes."

She laughed, gleeful. "Can I turn on the siren?"

He was quiet for a moment. "For a moment, on the highway."

Her smile was blinding. "See you then!"

###

Ten minutes turned into an hour, and it was nearly two in the morning before she walked through the door of the clubhouse. Jax was slouched in a chair smoking while Tig cleaned his gun.

The dark-haired man was out of his seat before she took a step through the door. "Where the hell have you been?"

Adelaide paused, surprised, still rushing from playing with sirens. "On the highway." She closed the door behind her, moving in with slow, measured steps. Gauging the situation. "What's wrong?"

Jax didn't stand, but his irritation was palpable. "You weren't back by one."

"I know."

He stubbed out his cigarette. "You keep to schedule like clockwork."

She moved closer, setting her bag on the table. "I do."

Tig ran his hands through his hair. "Jesus Christ, Allie, you didn't call. We thought something had happened to you. People get run off the highway all the time."

She leveled a look at him. "I can drive."

"That's not the point." Jax's voice was low and dangerously controlled.

Adelaide's own careful control was slipping. "What is?"

Tig moved close, until all she could see were those blue eyes of secrets and crazy, grasping her shoulders. "You're our charge. We're supposed to take care of you."

Oh. Oh.

She sighed, relaxing into his hold and giving him a hug. "I asked the deputy if I could ride in the police car and play with the sirens. That's what I've been doing for an hour."

"Hale?" Jax sounded incredulous and mildly offended.

"Yes."

Tig stepped back. "Really?"

She laughed. "Yes, Mr. Tigger." There was a moment of silence. "I'm tired. Am I released or is there punishment to go with my lecture?"

A smile curled Jax's lips. "I can give you plenty of punishment, sweetheart."

Adelaide scoffed and gave them each a goodnight kiss.

###

Her first drive was with two crates tucked carefully into her trunk below window level. She knew not to look or ask, and simply drove. The night was cool but she kept the windows down. Out in the desert, the stars were bright and the moon was high, and it was another world.

The meetup point was about three hours away. The receiving men were kind and had brought her a hot chocolate from their own clubhouse. There was even an offer extended to spend the night if she was tired, but she graciously declined.

It was five-thirty in the morning when she arrived back at TM. Jax was awake, ready to guide her exhausted body back to her bed. Working seventeen hours then driving all night had sapped everything from her, and she stumbled almost drunkenly beside him.

He chuckled. "What'd our boys do to you up there?"

"Oh, you know," she offered a tired smile, "crazy night of raunchy sex."

He snorted laughter and gently sat her on her bed. "Get some rest, darlin.'"

"That's the plan." She managed to crawl to her pillows before she fell asleep.

When she woke up a few hours later, her shoes had been carefully lined beside the door, her outer shirt folded neatly on her chair, and—

Laughter peeled from her. Jax had even removed her jeans.

After she was washed and dressed—in the closest thing to lounge clothes she'd allow to be seen in public—she wandered out.

"Sleeping beauty's awake at last." Chibs call was joyous. "Mornin,' sunshine."

She yawned and waved sleepily. Jax's head appeared from the kitchen and he made a point to look her up and down before grinning. "Nice panties."

Adelaide flicked her hair. "I know." The clock on the wall read close to nine. "I need to sift files in the office. I'll see you guys later, yeah?"

###

"Allie's first run was successful." Clay seemed grudgingly impressed. "I got a call from our boys. Had plenty of complementary things to say. Suggested we should send some of our other girls next time."

Laughter followed, and Clay continued. "So, she's in. It should take her seven runs to cover the repair. We'll renegotiate with her again after that to see where she's at with her escape fund."

Tig raised a hand. "Uh, I have a question." Clay gestured he go on. "Are we allowed to take her on runs? She's asked. Likes riding with us."

There was a moment where everyone shared a look with everyone else. Jax proposed, "Easy ones. Patchovers, summits, things like that."

Clay shrugged. "Vote?"

Piney was the only to hesitate, before shaking his head.

"Majority." The gavel went down.

###

Adelaide Jazra had been with the club a little over a month when the warehouse blew up.


Fun fact: all the cool stuff Adelaide can do, my mom can. They're actual skills (unfortunately ones I don't have).

I love Happy so much, and just got a kick out of imagining him dancing something like salsa or tango. So that's how that happened.

Review, share.

Kisses!