"So you understand what your part of this is, right?" The man with a shaved head asked before pulling the hood of his black sweater over it. The other, the leader of the Mayans was nodding his head.
"Yeah I understand. You just make sure you and your boys follow through. Those fucking Sam Crow bitches won't know what hit them." He said. He angrily inhaled on a blunt and then blew a billow of smoke into the air in front of the warehouse they used as a base of operations.
"Darby will get in touch with you when the shit's about to go down." The man said and with that he turned and left.
Marcus Alvarez wasn't a stupid man. He knew that trusting the Nords was a gamble but he also knew the bad blood that the Nords had for SAMCRO, the Mayans had as well. Even if they were skin heads he knew he could at least trust the Nords wouldn't fuck him over on this.
"Well I'll be damned, Mel. You haven't lost your skill that's for sure." Clay said as he threw the cue stick on top of the table. Melanie laughed and placed hers in the holder on the wall.
"Of course I haven't. It's a God given natural talent, old man. You should be privileged
I let you play with me." She replied with a cocky smile. She wiped her hands on the legs of her torn jeans and walked over to the bar to order a drink. Water – straight up.
Clay took a moment to look at Melanie. He had always had a soft spot for the pretty girl. She had sun kissed skin and impossibly black hair that didn't come from a bottle. That and her impossibly green eyes made her stand out in a crowd. He and Gemma had both thought Melanie and Jax would marry. They had been dating for so long and it just seemed the next step but when he step son had fucked up on night after drinking too much, that was all thrown away. Maybe things could get fixed, she had come with Jax tonight after all. The love was obviously there.
"How's your mom doing, darlin'?" Clay asked sitting on a bar stool next to her and ordering a Corona. She looked down at the glass of water and twirled it a little.
"She's…doing. Things haven't really changed. She has a good moment here or there but she's just so far into that it's going to take more than me helping her to get her straightened out. I thought of doing some intervention but that wouldn't work. The only thing I can hope for is her rock bottom will happen and happen soon before she kills herself." Melanie answered. She'd looked to Clay as a surrogate father after hers had died and she knew that he didn't judge her because of her mother. He knew that he genuinely cared.
He raised his arm and rested his hand on her shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze and she looked at him and smiled.
"You let me know if you need anything, you understand?" He said. Melanie shook her head and took a sip of her water.
"Thanks Clay. I appreciate it." Clay grabbed his beer and stood up heading over to a table where Tig and Chibs were sitting. Important club business had to be handled.
Jax took that opportunity to sit in the seat Clay had just vacated. He pushed his empty bottle to the back of the bar and ordered another.
"So are you ever going to let him win a game?" He asked. Melanie laughed.
"No. Why should I?" She asked. They sat there in silence for a few moments. Jax was checking Melanie out. Melanie was trying to ignore that Jax was checking her out. She began to feel uncomfortable. Only he could make her feel like she wearing nothing even if she was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt.
"Any new tattoos?" Jax asked breaking the silence. Melanie rolled her eyes.
"No. Any new cover-ups?" Melanie asked. They were of course referring the tattoos they had gotten together. It wasn't their names but something that reminded them of each other. Melanie had gotten a tattoo of Jax's motorcycle and Jax sported a dragonfly reading a book. Strange yes but they had meaning and neither one wanted to jinx getting a name tattooed on them. A lot of good that had done though, since in the end, they broke up.
"Never." Jax replied. Melanie shrugged and took another sip of the water she played with. She glanced at the clock and seeing that time was certainly flying by she stood up.
"I think I better head home." Jax stood up too taking a sip of his beer.
"I'll take you." He said. When she started to protest he gave her a look that silenced her.
"Relax. I'm not let anything happen to you." He said. They said goodbyes to those there and left the Clubhouse.
She was a complete failure. She had become what everyone said she would be: nothing. She couldn't keep her husband and now she couldn't even keep her baby. She'd fucked everything up and for what? Another hit? A few moments of complete bliss? Was it really worth it in the end? She started to cry and looked at the black book sitting on the table in front of her. She looked up at the ceiling and then pulled the book towards her. Maybe it would offer the help she needed. How many times had she seen on television all these people find God after fucking theirs lives up?
She opened the book to no specific place and began to read the words written there. Sinners looking for redemption. Salvation is what she needed and right now this looked like the only thing offering it. Maybe if she got her self cleaned up, found God and made an attempt at a normal life Jax would come back to her and she would see her baby. She began to read more but slowly the words seemed to melt into each other and her brain began to loose focus. She started to get that feeling again. The pain in her stomach, the empty feeling in the body that could only be fixed by a quick shot of Meth. She bit her lip and looked around the room.
Frustrated she closed the book and shoved it aside. This wasn't going to work. There was nothing she could do now.
The door to her room opened and she looked up. Gemma Teller Morrow stood there. Wendy wasn't stupid, she knew that Gemma didn't like her and after all that had happened she was certain this visit was not to check on her well being.
The man sitting in the pick up truck parked on the residential street was keeping a low profile. He had watched houses before, so he knew what he was doing. When he heard the rumble of the Harley coming down the street he slouched lower on the seat. He watched as the bitch sitting on the back got off and took the helmet off her head dark hair falling down past her shoulders. She was hot, someone that he would definitely fuck. Maybe when this all went down he would take her. It would serve the punk right to fuck his girl, willing or not.