Hello readers! Apologies for the lack of updating, I was out of town, but am back and will be updating a few times a week. I hope you guys like this chapter. :)

Cecile watched as the black and white paint ran down her calves and mixed together like cream in coffee before swimming down the drain. This was her first shower in two days. She had done nothing but paint. When the idea for this new piece hit her, she was inspired, but after she started, she became obsessed with it, and determined to finish it by Friday. The more of the canvas she covered, the more she told herself no other painting was good enough to show, except this one. She had to finish. She raised her arms above her head and stretched as the hot water bounced off her skin. Her back cracked like a book being opened for the first time in years. She had spent most of the last two days hunched over her art. She didn't have an easel large enough to rest the canvas on, so her only option was the motel floor. She tucked news papers underneath the edges so as not to get any paint of the green carpet. I probably would've done them a favor by staining that ugly thing, she thought.

She crossed her arms and relaxed, letting the steam filling the room take her to another place. The only thing on her mind was her painting, and now that she was finally done, all of life's worries and musings made their way back into her thoughts. She wondered if her father was looking for her, or even noticed that she left. She was careful not to leave a trail of bread crumbs behind her, no facebook, no twitter, she didn't tell anyone she was leaving. Except Izzy...she thought. She had been so preoccupied and busy that she'd forgotten to call her and let her know she was alright.

Izzy witnessed her father's drunken ways first hand. She drove Cecile home one night after work, the diner closed later than usual. When she pulled up outside Cecile's modest home, her father came barging out. He pulled the car door open so hard he almost tore it off and grabbed Cecile's arm.

"What were you and your whore friend doing out so late?" He yelled. "Your mother would be disgusted!"

"Dad stop!" Cecile cried, humiliated in front of the only girl who's company she liked.

At that point, Izzy got out of her car and marched over to the other side. "Get your hands off of her!" She ordered in a shaky voice.

Cecile's father just laughed. "This is kind of person you're hanging out with? No manners, no class, speaking to her elders like that." He spit in Izzy's direction. "Get inside." He kicked Cecile.

"I said get your hands off her." Izzy commanded, this time her voice was calm and controlled.

The drunk man turned to her, and tightened his grip around Cecile. "You're gonna come on my property and point a gun at me?"

A gun? Cecile turned to Izzy and saw she did indeed have a gun pointed at her father.

"Get in the car, Cecile." Izzy said, never taking her eyes off her father's. "Now!"

Cecile wiggled free of her father's hold and ducked in the passengers seat. Izzy didn't lower the gun until she too was in the car.

"This ain't your home anymore, girl!" He yelled after the car as Izzy sped off. That statement would've once worried Cecile, but he was so drunk, she knew he wouldn't remember it in the morning.

The two girls were silently starred at the road illuminated by headlights in front of them. It wasn't until Izzy pulled over by Raccoon River, that either spoke. She turned the car off and shifted in her seat so that she could face Cecile head on.

"Are you okay?" Izzy asked, her voice full of concern.

Cecile nodded, and kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. She was unfortunately used to her father's behavior, but not used to having other people watch. Ever since her mother died, it had been extremely hard for her to make friends, or feel close to anyone, and Izzy had become like an older sister. After seeing what her home life was like, she figured she wouldn't want to have anything to do with her anymore.

"I'm fine." Cecile whispered.

Cecile could feel Izzy's eyes burning the side of her head, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything more. "Come on." Izzy opened her door, and climbed out. The car shook as she slammed her door shut, and Cecile watched as her friend stepped in front of the headlights. "Well?" She held her hands out and smiled.

Cecile furrowed her brows in confusion, and brought her hand to the door handle, pulling it open.

The white sand crunched under her shoes as she slowly approached Izzy. "What are we doing?" She asked timidly.

Izzy took her hands and looked at her intently. "One day, you'll find freedom." She didn't need to say anything more. In that moment, Cecile smiled because she knew Izzy understood.

Izzy let go of Cecile's hands and turned to the water. She pulled her tank top over her head, revealing her small perky breasts. She unbuttoned her jean shorts and stepped out of them. "Well, are you coming?" She asked over her shoulder.

Cecile laughed, and nodded, taking off her clothes and joining Izzy where the water met land.

"One...two..." Izzy counted dramatically. "Three!"

Together, the girls ran in the river, squealing with delight as the cool water hit their skin, covered in sweat from the humid night.

Cecile held her breath and swam under water, all sounds gone, nothing existed down there but her. To her dismay, she was not a mermaid, and had to come up for air. The warm Summer night felt colder now, and her skin was covered in goose pimples.

"Doesn't this feel good?" Izzy breathed.

"You have no idea." Cecile marveled. She had grown up around this river and never once gone in. She immediately regretted all those times she denied invitations to come here.

The girls floated on their backs, looking up at the starry sky, each thinking about their own problems and wishes. Each thankful they weren't alone.

The steaming hot water crashed down on her shoulders and brought Cecile back to the present. She wasn't sure how long she had been in the shower. Looking down, she saw all the paint had come off her body. She scrubbed herself with the small lemon scented bar of soap, and washed her hair.

When she emerged from the shower and wrapped herself in one of the white towels folded nicely above the toilet, she imagined she must look like a ghost with the steam all around her.

She dried herself off, rubbed lotion all over her body, wanting to make sure her skin looked nice for the show, and put on a clean t shirt and underwear.

She didn't look at her painting, not wanting to notice any imperfections before getting into bed. Knowing herself, she wouldn't be able to sleep until whatever she thought needed to be fixed was.

She cracked the window open, allowing the fumes of her paints to leave the room and turned out the lights. She smiled as she rested her head on the cold pillow, thinking of the man who inspired her new painting.

Tig cracked his knuckles under the table. A pair of twos... fuckin' fantastic. He was never good at poker which is why he was reluctant to play, but Jax, Opie and Chibs insisted. It was either this, or take part in the orgy going on in the next room.

The choice would've been obvious a few days ago. If there was anything Tig loved as much as his bike or a good whiskey, it was the softness of a woman's body. When his large rough hands touched the delicate curves of a woman, he felt more powerful than ever. It was like something natural kicked in, and he felt how he imagined a male lion would. The need to mate, and protect was stronger than anything in those moments, but it always ended the same way, the girl moving on to the next man that showed her any bit of attention, and Tig feeling empty.

A loud moan from the other room drew a laugh from the brother's around the table. Things were still tense between him and Opie. Though they made amends, he could never take back accidently killing Donna, Opie's late wife. He took a mother away from their children, a wife away from her husband, and even though Opie was now with Lyla, and maybe even forgiven him, Tig could never forgive himself.

"Who do you reckon is causing that sweet song?" Chibs asked the table of four.

Opie took a gulp of his beer. "Juice." He grumbled in a deep voice.

"Nah man." Jax started, waving a finger in the air. "Happy."

A unanimous no filled the room. "I'm telling you! I've heard him with woman before, man. The crazy bastard knows what he's doing"

Tig. "My money's on Bobby."

"Dude..." Opie laughed.

Tig looked at Jax and Chibs for support. "Aw come on! He's Elvis for Christ sakes! He's a smooth talker." The men laughed and shook their heads. "Ladies love that hairy shit now a days too, I'm telling you."

The moan came from the room again, this time louder. All the men looked at each other said "Juice," in unison.

"That's my boy!" Chibs added. "Why aren't you young bucks in there? I'm sure there's plenty of girls to go around."

"Hey! What about me!" Tig interrupted.

"Why would any girl chose you over one of these boys?" Chibs laughed.

"Girls like older men. We know what were doing and can last longer than two minutes." Tig winked at Jax who retorted by throwing a peanut at him.

"Well I don't know about Op, but I have Tara now. Shit's serious, I already fucked it up once, I don't wanna do it again." Jax said.

"Amen brother." Opie nodded.

"Well of course you agree, you have a porn star waiting for you back home." Chibs teased.

Opie didn't laugh, just took another sip of his beer. Tig knew he was sensitive about Lyla continuing her work at Caracara. Tig briefly wondered what it would be like to have someone like Tara or Lyla waiting for him back home.

"Alright, I'm about ready to end this game." Tig quickly changed the subject, not wanting Opie to feel uncomfortable. They weren't great friends before he killed Donna, in fact Tig was certain Opie never liked him, but now he tried to make an effort with him. It was painfully obvious to everyone around him, but he didn't care. He would do anything to rid himself of the guilt that wrapped it self around him constantly. He threw his cards on the table, letting his brothers see his shitty hand.

"No surprise there." Jax chuckled.

"Ha, ha." Tig fired back.

The rest of the men showed their cards, and Chibs greedily took the cash in the middle of the table after proudly displaying his royal flush.

"God damn Irish bastard." Tig said, watching Chib's hands crumble his money.

"What can I say boys," Chibs started. "there are two things a father teaches a boy in Ireland. The river dance, and how to play poker."

"Why don't go get on up there and show us your moves." Opie joked. Tig laughed a little too loud.

"I already crushed the lot of ye' in poker, I don't want to make you feel even worse about yourselves." Chibs took a shot.

After Chibs took his winnings to his room, he joined Tig, Jax, and Opie, and together they entered the orgy room. When they opened the doors, the smell of stale beer and sweat over powered them. Naked girls, and tattooed men were spread all over the place. It was hard to tell where one person began and another ended. Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire." Boomed through out the room.

"Alright boys, have a good night." Chibs rubbed his hands together and was off. Tig watched him scan the room and within seven seconds, he had his arm around a bleach blonde skinny thing. Chibs loved blondes.

Tig didn't have a preference, but he found he favored girls who looked more natural then ones with dyed hair and heavy makeup. There was nothing worse than looking at a girl after he fucked her and seeing black smudges all over her cheeks.

Jax and Opie sat on a leather couch in the corner watching and laughing. A girl approached them but they shook their heads no.

"What are you doing all by yourself sweetheart?" A forced mousy voice asked Tig.

His blue eyes went to the girl standing in front of hum. She was pretty, but her hair was messy, and mascara streamed down her cheeks. He wasn't in the mood for anyone's sloppy seconds.

"Sorry darlin'. Not tonight."."

The girl looked at him like he slapped her mother, and with a "hurumph" she walked away. Tig watched her ass bounce as she went over to another, and sat on his lap.

He felt a pat on his back and turned to his right. His president stood by him, head hanging down from too much booze. Tig noticed a hickey on his neck. Gemma isn't going to be happy about that, he thought. The crow eaters in Charming knew not to leave an marks on Clay in fear of Gemma's wrath.

"We need to talk." He growled.

"Okay." Tig nodded.

They left the room, closing the doors behind them. Tig went over to sit at the bar, but Clay stopped him.

"Not here."

Tig followed his president out side. The Oregon night was chilly, and the smell of rain was fresh on the Earth. Tig didn't realize how musty the air was in the clubhouse, and took a few deep satisfying breaths before turning to Clay. "What's up."

"I don't trust Les. He's not one hundred percent down with this deal." Tig wasn't sure of what to say so he just stayed quiet. "We can't fuck up. Akbar is going to give us a shit ton of money, and I won't have anyone ruin it."

A bad feeling boiled in Tig's gut. He was Sergeant at Arms, and that meant doing the dirty work with out question. "What do you want me to do, boss?" Tig reluctantly asked.

"Tomorrow, at the auction, if you notice anything suspicious, or get the chance to, fix the Les problem." Clay closed the distance between them and put his large hand on Tig's shoulder. "We can't trust him. Understand?"

Tig nodded. "Yeah."

Knowing he could count on Tig, Clay nodded and headed back

to the clubhouse. The muffled music blared through the doors as Clay walked inside.

Tig stayed outside. He couldn't resist how good the clean air felt traveling in and out of his lungs. He found a stump, and groaned as he lowered himself. Since the Charming charter had been in Portland, they had done lots of long drives, and the hours on the road were starting to take a toll on his body. He wanted a break, but they had a job to do. He looked up at the sky and hoped Clay was wrong. He acted like a had a lust for blood, to fool the others, or himself, he didn't know, but like the long drives, the killing was starting to take a toll on his mind. He didn't want anymore blood on his hands, but he couldn't let the club down. They were all he had.

Cecile laid on her stomach scrolling through her phone, looking at pictures of actresses and models with pretty hairstyles to try and get an idea of how she should do her hair. The auction was tonight and she wanted to look her best. Since her dress was backless, she decided she should put her long hair in some sort of an updo. After ten minutes of searching, she decided on a braided halo. It looked easy enough.

She looked at the clock. It was only 9:15 am and she didn't have to be at the gallery until 7pm to set up for the 8pm showing. She rolled over and stretched before getting up, getting dressed and heading out the door.

Still tired from her two day painting fest, she decided to drive instead of walk to the coffee shop on main street. It was a beautiful day and she took a seat outside. Sunglasses on, she people watched while waiting for her breakfast. The waiter brought her an egg and cheese omelet which she scarfed down in a matter of seconds. She hadn't had a proper meal for days. While she waited for a side of toast, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and the name "Izzy" popped up.

"Izzy!" She answered getting a few looks from people walking by. She told her friend about the success she's been having in Portland and her show tonight. Izzy expressed her happiness for her, and told her she decided it was finally time she move to New York. She always loved fashion, and she got an internship at a magazine in the big apple. She told her she found a roommate and Cecile could come see her anytime. Cecile promised she would call her after the show and tell her how everything went. "This could be it, Iz. This could be the night that gives me a career."

They finished their conversation, and after breakfast, Cecile walked over to Marcie's Shop. The little bell above the door jingled, and Marcie popped her head out of the back room. Seeing who it was, a smile grew on her face.

"Hi love!" She waddled over to Cecile and gave her a big hug. "Are you excited?"

"More nervous, than excited, but excited nonetheless." Cecile smiled.

"Good, good!" Marcie headed to the back room, yelling over her shoulder. "I need your opinion, you young girls always know what looks best." She came out of the room holding two dresses up. She was so short, the hems swept across the floor. "Which one do you think?"

Marcie held the first one over her body. It was a simple black dress with a silver leaf looking belt going around the waist. The other was a vibrant orange with ruffled sleeves. Cecile knew the orange one was more Marcie's style, but this was going to be a nice event, and the black one would be more appropriate. Plus, it was slimming.

"I like the black one better. The belt adds a nice touch."

Marcie seemed disappointed she didn't choose the orange one, but simply shrugged and hung it back up. "Do you have any earrings that match the dress you bought, hun?"

Cecile wasn't one who wore jewelry often so the answer came easy. "No."

"Why don't you take a look in the case and see if there's anything you like." Marcie suggested.

Cecile was careful not to rest her hands on the clean glass and looked at the beautiful sparkling jewels inside the case.

A pair of small gold leaves caught her eye. "Those are pretty."

"Which ones, dear?" Marcie squinted.

Cecile pointed at the delicate leaves and Marcie opened the case taking them out. She handed them to Cecile, who held them up to her earlobes in the mirror on the counter.

"They're beautiful."

"They're yours." Marcie smiled.

"What? No I couldn't..."

"Yes you can." Marcie interrupted. "This is your big night. You keep them."

Cecile bent over the counter and threw her arms around Marcie. "Thank you."

"You're going to knock 'em dead."

Cecile smiled, and for the first time in awhile, she felt hopeful.

"Nari Cho will not be harmed, understand?" Les looked around the table. Some members said "yes," others nodded. "I need a vocal yes from everyone here."

The room chanted "yes."

"Good." Les relaxed in his seat.

"The Cho's are a powerful family so we'll be takin' precautions. Leavin' our kuttes here and wearing masks. Juice is and Bobby are gonna drive the vans, all you guys have to do is be ready with your guns."

"We're not killing anyone." Les interjected.

Tig noticed Clay clench his fists. If there was one thing his president hated it was being interrupted.

"Don't worry man, Akbar said no blood needs to be shed." Jax reassured.

Jax's added comment only aided in Clay's fury, but he swallowed it down alike a good bourbon. "That's right. This is a simple kidnapping. No fuss. We're bringing her to the cabin while Akbar meets and negotiates with Cho. When he calls us, we'll take her back to where we picked her up, safe and sound. The guns are just a precaution."

"Her kids aren't gonna be with her, right?" Les asked.

"Akbar checked the guest list. She's using her plus one for her mother."

Les nodded, taking in Clay's words. "We're trusting you brother."

Clay slightly bowed his head with false gratitude. "I have to thank you again. All of you for agreeing to help us with this." He scanned the table, taking in each and every Son.

"I, we, couldn't do this with out you."

"We know." The vice president of the Portland charter joked.

The laughs eased the tension in the room, and Les smacked the gavel, ending the meeting.

It was only 5pm. They still had a few hours to kill before heading over to the gallery. While the men played cards, smoked, and slapped crow eaters tight asses, Tig left the never ending party and went outside to clear his mind.

He walked far enough from the clubhouse so that he couldn't hear the music anymore. There was a patch of forest just a few feet away, and he wandered through the trees, kicking pine cones out of his path, and taking long puffs of his cigarette. The sound of running water filled his ears, and he headed in that direction. The creek was small, and the water flowed steadily along.

Tig leaned against the trunk of a tall black cottonwood and took another long puff of his cig. He pressed the back of his head against the tree as hard as he could, until the pain became unbearable. Clay's words echoed in his mind. He didn't want to take out Les. He was sick and tired of being seen as having no soul. It was starting to catch up with him. Maybe when Clay's hands get bad enough and he leaves, things will be different, he thought. All dressed in black, he looked out of place in the middle of the Oregon forest. The beautiful vivid colors, Earthy smells, and life surrounding him, made him look like death itself, burning everything in his path.

He starred straight ahead, admiring the brilliant greens of the trees, briefly reminding him of those eyes. The girl on the side of the road. He hadn't been able to push her out of his mind since that night. She probably doesn't even remember my name, he chuckled to himself. He sighed, and crushed his cigarette against his wallet, not wanting to drop it on the ground. Part of him wanted so badly to be a part of nature. To just exist, maybe even try to be happy instead of destroying life. He was tired of playing death.

He stayed out there for a while before the bright sun cast a warm orange glow, telling him it was getting late. He made his way back to the clubhouse just in time to see Jax walk out and spot him.

"Where you been, bro?" He asked.

"Oh, I was just takin' a walk."

Jax furrowed his brows and put his hand on Tig's shoulder. "We need you to look over the weapons, make sure we're all good for tonight."

"Yeah, okay."

"I don't think we'll be needin' them though." Jax narrowed his gaze, silently telling Tig not to use his weapon.

Tig nodded, letting Jax know he understood. Satisfied, Jax walked back into the clubhouse, leaving Tig outside, no closer to finding the answers he so desperately wanted.

Another car blasted it's horn at Cecile but she didn't speed up. She stuck her hand out her window and waved them along. Her new painting was safely covered in the backseat, and she was driving as she imagined a first time mother would. The passenger in the other car flipped her off as they speed past, but she didn't care. She was in her new dress on her way to the auction, feeling like a million bucks.

She smiled and bobbed her head to the radio. The song ended and Lana Del Rey's, Guns and Roses came on. Cecile turned the volume up, having never heard this song.

"Motorcycle love, divine

I should've learned to let you stay"

The word motorcycle brought her back to the man who fixed her car. Tig...what an odd name. Her stomach started tingling the way it had when his blue eyes pierced through hers. She had never seen eyes that color. What started off a fear when he got off his bike, looking like the devil himself, turned into something else as he fixed her car and spoke of freedom. She saw he wasn't a devil, just a mere mortal who was as lost as she. She wondered where he was now. If he had any destination, or if he was just driving where ever he felt he should.

"I can feel it comin' in the air tonight,

See you workin' on that blue Pacific"

Cecile started to memorize the rhythm of the song and hummed along with it until she pulled into the back driveway of the Jumpcut Gallery. She parked and was greeted by Robbie, Ida's assistant.

"Hey, Robbie!" Cecile smiled taking in his appearance. His black suit fit him perfectly. There was nothing like a man in a tailored suit.

"Oh, honey! You look amazing!?" He admired before kissing both of Cecile's cheeks.

"Thanks, so do you." She laughed.

He looked through the window of her backseat. "Is this it?" He asked, opening the door.

"Yep."

"Can I peak?" He asked, tugging on the sheet it was wrapped in.

"Nope. I don't want to jinx anything."

Robbie shook his head and laughed. "Artists."

Cecile held the back door open for Robbie who was carrying her painting. She heard the quick clicking of heels against the marble floor and saw Ida turn the corner, dramatically holding her arms out.

"Darling!" She shouted, causing stares from the other artists.

"Ida." Cecile smiled, and embraced the short woman, careful not to get any make-up on her black pant suit.

"You look stunning!" She marveled, taking in Cecile's gown. "Taylor!" She snapped. "Take a photo of us, would you?"

A young boy who couldn't have been over twenty held a Canon 5D over his face and snapped a couple shots of the duo.

"I always take pictures with my new stars." Ida said through her smile.

After making sure her piece was tucked safely away with the others in the order the were to be shown, she headed into the main room, where guests were starting to arrive. The event was invitation only, and the crowd was much different than the one a few nights ago. These guests were covered in designer clothes, their make up and hair professionally styled. They're more beautiful than the paintings...Cecile thought.

A breathtaking Korean woman caught her eye. She looked like a Geisha Queen, except she was dressed head to toe in Chanel. She walked as if she was floating in the air. She held her son close, who looked just as regal as his mother. Cecile stared until they took there seats in the front row. The lights flashed on and off a few times, telling the buyers it was time to take their seats.

Butterflies flew wildly in Cecile's stomach. The show was about to begin!