Sons Of Anarchy - Angel of Death
Previously…
Stevie shook her head. So much for inconspicuously finding out if Happy was still in the land of the living or not. "Nice." She scoffed, tossing the spent rag in the bin by the door.
"Sorry," Juice sighed, "You know he makes me nervous."
"Everyone makes you nervous, Juice." Stevie teased, walking towards the clubhouse in search of a shower and a change of clothes. She shoved the jumble of thoughts that were labeled Happy Lowman, to the back of her mind. Time to put on her big girl panties. Bobby was coming home.
Chapter 9: Enemy
Stevie spent the remainder of the afternoon helping Gemma direct traffic in the clubhouse. She earned her patch with The Tribe working undercover as a bartender in one of their escort services. So Gemma put her in charge of liquor inventory and stocking the bar. She set the final bottle of the last case of beer to cool in the fridge when the familiar growl of a Harley rumbled through her chest. She glanced at the clock, five past six. Happy. She felt her breath catch when the bike cut off. Shit was about to get real.
The clubhouse door opened and fell shut. "Hap's here." Gemma said as she passed Stevie on her way into the kitchen. "You mind grabbing the last two bags, sweetheart?"
Just perfect. "Yeah, no prob." Stevie called back. She pushed the door open, blinded for a moment by the setting California sun. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes get used to the light as she strode over to Gemma's Caddy. The trunk was still popped so she hoisted up the last two paper bags from the grocery store and shut the lid with her elbow, tapping her hip against it to make sure it was closed.
Happy roared into Charming with a certain blonde biker chick on his mind. Two weeks. That's how long it'd been since he'd heard her voice. Well, at least her live voice. She'd left him one message. Just one. About a week ago, she'd called to check in:
Hey Hap. Uh, it's Stevie. Just checking to make sure you're still breathing. (She sighed) Tell Ma I said hi.
He listened to it so many times, he lost count. Stevie Vale wasn't someone he calculated being a part of the equation when he pictured his life. He was a lone wolf, always had been, even in Tacoma. His role as an enforcer warranted a solitary lifestyle, and he'd embraced it. Now he found himself actually craving companionship. Happy Lowman didn't miss anyone, other than his Ma, of course.
He pulled into TM backing his bike into a space next to Stevie's Harley. It looked like only her, Clay and Piney were at the clubhouse. The others must still be on the mission of retaliation for Donna. The clubhouse door flew open as he set his bike. He swallowed hard as he set down his helmet on the handle bar.
Damn. Stevie looked even better than he remembered. Her hair was loose, golden curls tumbling down past her shoulders. A generous strip of skin was exposed between her tank and her studded belt. She turned to face him, closing the trunk, the Harley Davidson logo on her chest glittered, catching the sunlight. She wasn't wearing her kutte, which was odd. Maybe she'd been cleaning, or maybe she wanted to remind him what he'd been missing. He voted for the latter; it's absence gave him a great view of her rack. He groaned at the sudden memory of her in sliding into his lap on the back porch at his Ma's. They'd been well behaved all day, barely touching. Evidently she couldn't take it anymore because she made the first move. Once his mother went to bed, Stevie slid into his lap and pressed her mouth hungrily to his. He'd worked a hand under her shirt to palm her breast when his mother came through the back door, causing Stevie to jerk back and up off his lap. She left the next morning, whisked away on club business.
Then he was a complete dick and didn't call. It wasn't like she called him incessantly. She'd only called once, and then called his Ma to check in. His mother was absolutely furious with him. Not that, that was new or anything. She always wanted him to find a nice girl and settle down. He'd insisted, Stevie was not a 'nice girl.' His mother just shook her head, she thought Stevie was a woman worth his time. He walked into the house that Saturday night to find his Ma and Stevie smoking together on the back porch. He overheard his Ma push Stevie a little, trying to figure out what she was doing with Hap.
"So," Ma sighed, "You and my Son are quite cozy, Stephana."
"Stevie, please," Stevie chuckled, "We're just friends, Mama."
"Yeah, friends that fuck." Mama Lowman answered, releasing some smoke. "I might be an old woman, but I still hear pretty well."
Stevie swallowed. "I-I'm sorry. We w-won't-"
"Nonsense." Mama waived her off. "We're all adults here, mija." She sighed, "Now, tell me." She passed the joint back to the young woman. "Do you love him?"
Stevie's breath caught. Of course she did. Well, she loved all her MC brothers. With Hap, it was definitely different. They had a white hot physical attraction that had her a little warm just thinking about it. "It's only been a few weeks, Mama." She shook her head.
Mama Lowman smiled and said something she'd said to Happy a few hours earlier. "Sometimes, that's all it takes."
That's exactly what had come out of his mouth two weeks ago on the phone with her. Sometimes, that's all it takes. It kinda just came out in his hazed state before he had a chance to think it next morning, he felt like a complete pussy. Still, he could've had the decency to call.
Spending the weekend with her had been so easy, she fit right into a space in his life he hadn't realized was empty. His Ma loved having another woman around other than his crotchety Aunt. If he was completely honest, he enjoyed having her there too. She wasn't loud and obnoxious like most of women he knew. She reminded him of Tara and Gemma in the way she could handle her own shit and still care for those around her. That fact scared him, he'd vowed a long time ago that he'd never take an Old Lady. Who was he kidding? Stevie Vale wasn't just an Old Lady prospect, she was a patched member for Christ's sake.
The trunk slamming shut brought him back to the present. Stevie didn't even acknowledge he was sitting on his bike. She just grabbed the bags and went back inside the clubhouse. What did he expect, he'd roll in and she'd slide back into his lap? Jesus, this whole tapping biker chick ass was making him into a bonafide pussy. He pushed up and swung his leg clear of the bike and made his way to the clubhouse.
Stevie could feel Hap's dark eyes on her as soon as she stepped outside. Asshole, she thought, gathering the last of the party prep. She didn't even acknowledge his presence, she just went straight back inside. If he wanted to talk to her, he could get in line. Once she was back inside, she shrugged back on her kutte. She wanted to make sure Hap saw what he'd been missing out on. From the way he'd stayed put and watched her, she would say it worked.
The clubhouse door opened and shut. Stevie refused to turn around as she felt Hap approach.
"Hey, Hap." Gemma greeted the surly biker. "How was your ride, sweetheart?"
Hap grunted, "Fine." He settled on a barstool.
Gemma smiled and gathered her bag so she could head out. "Stevie, I'm gonna go get changed for the party. You should go relax a bit before everyone gets here, baby."
"Okay, Gem." Stevie answered, finally turning around. She had a bottle of water in her hand. "Be careful." She set the bottle of water in front of Hap, then stooped down, picking up a few bottles of booze to set up on the shelving behind the bar. As she worked, she heard the tell tale crinkle of the plastic bottle and the grunt of satisfaction come from the bar that told her Hap took her peace offering. She emptied one box and started on the other. Soon she was down to her last armful of booze.
Suddenly Hap was in front of her, taking the last of the bottles from her arms. "Let me." He rasped, reaching around her to put the bottles away, pinning her between his chest and the shelves.
Stevie swallowed. Goodness, he smelled amazing. The sun had baked its glorious scent into his kutte, and he was still a little dusty from the road. Flash images of him rinsing off in the shower had her mouth instantly as dry as the desert.
Happy stared down at her, his eyes deep pools of black. He had a signature toothpick between his lips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Resting his hands on the shelf above her head, his belt buckle grazed the exposed skin between her jeans and tank top, sending a shiver up her spine. She bit her lip and averted her gaze, shrinking back against the shelving a little. He hadn't even touched her and she felt like she was on fire. She looked up at him through her lashes, finding his eyes fixated on her lips. He removed the toothpick from between his lips when suddenly, the clubhouse door burst open and Chibs, Opie and Tig all walked in.
"Happy!" The Scot cried, pulling Hap's attention away just long enough for Stevie to duck out from under his arm. Hap pushed away from the shelves and came back around the bar to embrace his brothers. "Glad to see ya, boy." Chibs said, pulling him in for a massive hug.
Stevie pulled out a round of beer and shot glasses. She poured the shots and uncapped the beers, then held up her shot. "To Donna." She nodded to Opie. All the men raised their glasses and they slammed the shot. A croweater appeared to help clean up the glasses, allowing Stevie to join the crew gathered around the bar.
Tig slid onto a barstool, watching Stevie carefully avoid the newly arrived Nomad. He cocked an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise, brother?" He murmured to Hap as he settled on a stool beside him, nodding to Stevie who began to arm wrestle Half Sack with Chib's encouragement.
"Aye, that's it lass. Give 'em Hell!" Chibs laughed, taking a swig of beer. It was a running joke that once Half Sack could beat Stevie at arm wrestling, he'd earn his patch.
Hap just grunted, watching Stevie smile teasingly at the prospect before glancing over at Hap. His face was pretty unreadable, save for the snarl that pulled at his upper lip.
"Awww, C'mon!" Half Sack whined as Stevie slammed his hand to the bar top.
"Whining won't get 'cha anywhere, prospect." Clay chuckled from seat at one of the round tables. He was working on getting a route together for their new arrangement with the IRA.
"I know." Half Sack muttered rubbing his elbow, giving Stevie a sheepish grin.
"Better luck next time, Kip." Stevie winked, sliding off her barstool. She leaned in and gave Chibs a kiss on the cheek, hugged Opie then kissed Tig's cheek too. "I'll see you fellas later." She murmured pulling out her sunglasses. She slid them on and left the clubhouse, leaving a fuming Happy in her wake.
"Where's she headed?" Hap asked, crossing his arms, watching Stevie mount her bike and speed away.
Chibs smirked, "Got herself a little house on the edge of town." He explained, "The lass grew tired of the pussy stench and porno soundtrack of the clubhouse."
Happy smirked. Stevie had her own place. He didn't like the idea of her not sleeping under the protection of the clubhouse, but the privacy would be nice. Even in Charming, it wasn't a good idea for a woman to live alone.
"Don't worry Hap." Tig clapped him on the shoulder, "Maverick keeps a close eye on her."
"Maverick?" Hap scoffed. "Like Top Gun?"
Chibs just shrugged, polishing off his beer while the rest of the crew laughed.
Hap scowled. He didn't want to be the center of attention, so he kept the rest of his questions to himself. Maybe Stevie had moved on already with some guy named, Maverick? He'd bet his Harley she would have let him kiss her when he had her pinned back behind the bar, if the boys hadn't arrived and ruined the moment. He pushed off the barstool and headed back towards the dorms, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. He needed a shower and a nap before the party tonight.
SAMCRO parties were always a riot. Stevie thought The Tribe knew how to throw a party until she attended her first SAMCRO shindig a few years ago. She was still a Marine, home on leave. Jax invited her up and she accepted. Kozik had been there, and if she hadn't gotten so wasted, she probably would have let him take her for a tumble in his sheets. He'd let her sleep it off in his room, saying that he wasn't going to take advantage of her like that. See? Just a bunch of overgrown, leather clad, Harley riding, teddy bears.
Tonight was going to be a little different. They had a brother returning to them. Stevie was to thank for that. The witness disappearing caused Bobby's case to fold, getting him released a few weeks later. She pulled up to TM and couldn't help but smile. The lot was full of Harleys, black leather, boobs and booze. Everyone was milling about the parking lot, waiting for their guest of honor.
She dismounted and set her helmet on the handle bar. After fluffing her hair a little she strolled over to the throng of people. There was a dark sedan parked in the lot, so she assumed Bobby had just arrived. The closer she got to the car she realized it was a Mercedes, definitely not the usual Fed fare.
SAMCRO was gathered around Clay, who was being confronted by five white men. The silver haired one, looked like he might be Leader of the Pack. Stevie slid in beside Juice, Hap on her left side next to who looked like suit man's right hand-man.
"Expensive car, hell of a suit, all your teeth," Clay remarked, "Must be the top of the Aryan food chain, eh?"
"What you do for a living is between you and your maker." The man in the impeccable suit said. "I'm not here to adjust your moral compass, this is just a reality check." He took a breath, "You're a criminal, and you're done selling guns to color."
Stevie took a step forward drawing her right pistol out of its holster with her left hand. Hap reacted, gripping her left bicep in a stand down gesture. Evidently, Tig felt the same twitch to blow the asshole's head off because he also drew his weapon.
The man in the suit noticed. "You going to shoot me, Mr. Trager? With all these witnesses? Or maybe your Angel of Death will do the honors, hmm?" He nodded to Stevie who'd fixed her face in a sneer. Hap held fast, he didn't want her coming unglued, not with all these people around. If their encounter with the teenage witness taught him anything, it was Stevie Vale was one scary ass bitch.
"Look, I don't know what Darby told you." Clay sighed, "I don't know what your angle is, but let me be real clear." He stepped in front of Tig, "Nobody threatens SAMCRO. And nobody tells us what we can and can't do." Clay snarled, matter of factly, "Black. Brown. Or white." He stared the man down, "So why don't you just climb back into your little German clown car and drive back to Nazi town, because the next time you piss all over my shoes?" Clay warned, "They will kill ya, and I don't give a shit how many witnesses there are."
The man didn't even seem phased by it, "My shop opens in a few weeks. Until then," He crouched down and left the box of cigars at Clay's feet. "Enjoy." Then he turned and went back to his car, his white entourage in tow.
Hap released her arm and Stevie holstered her weapon. Hap and Tig made sure the car left the lot without further incident.
"I wanna know everything." Clay growled, handing Juice the business card Zobelle had handed him.
"You got it." Juice confirmed, jogging off towards the office.
Clay turned to Stevie, "Help him." He ordered. Stevie nodded. She joined Juice in the office, firing up her laptop she left on site for instances like this.
They divided and conquered, Stevie took the public records while Juice did a little deeper digging into Ethan Zobelle's more private affairs.
"League of American Nationalists." Juice scoffed. "These guys for real?" He asked, shaking his head.
"Unfortunately." Stevie murmured with a nod. Juice just shook his head. They continued, a half hour passed and Stevie sat back to stretch her neck. She rubbed her neck, and stood up to stretch a little. As soon as she got to her feet, she came face to face with Happy Lowman. He must have come looking for her after ensuring Zobelle made a peaceful exit.
"Hey, Hap." Juice said with a nod, hardly tearing his eyes away from his screen.
"Juice." Hap grunted. He put his hands on Stevie's shoulders guiding her to sit back down. He sat on the couch behind her chair, his hands sweeping her hair off to one side so he could have full access to her neck.
Stevie bit her lip to keep from groaning aloud. Hap had very talented fingers. As much as she wanted to lay into him about not calling her, the look on Juice's face told her this sort of gesture was rare for Hap. After a few delicious moments, Hap leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on one of her sweet spots, the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Damn. If that was his way of reminding her he knew how to make her moan; message received, loud and clear.
Stevie told herself to focus as Hap leaned back and lit up a cigarette. "Thanks." She murmured. She leaned over her laptop again, trying to make sense of this new threat.
"He's so squeaky clean, it's like staring at an alias or actually the more I look at, could he be in wit-pro?" Stevie guessed, shaking her head. "How is that possible?"
"I don't know." Juice shrugged. They hadn't faced an enemy like this before. Zobelle was powerful and influential on both sides of the law. SAMCRO might have Charming in it's pocket, but Zobelle was looking to add it to his collection. "Alright, that's all I can get for now." Juice closed his laptop, gathering up some papers. "I'll make some calls during business hours tomorrow." He nodded to Hap and jogged back across the lot towards where Clay sat with the gathered reaper crew.
"How's your Mom?" She asked, closing her laptop and stashing it back in the cabinet behind the desk.
"Better." Happy answered. "Doc says treatment is going good."
Stevie sighed, leaning against the door jamb and crossing her arms. "I'm glad." She smiled softly. "How was the ride?"
Hap studied her for a moment. "Fine." He answered. "You look good."
Stevie just scoffed and rolled her eyes. Happy frowned. Usually she would at least accept the compliment, not blow him off. He really had screwed up. He swallowed hard, pushing up from the couch to stand in front of her. "Heard you moved out of the clubhouse."
Ah. So Hap had asked about where she was going when she left before the party. Hmm. "Yeah, wanted a little more space to myself. Love the club, but I don't need to live under the same roof as them, 24/7." She shrugged, pulling out her smokes. She lit one and took a drag, "Still crash at the clubhouse sometimes, so I've still got a room." She smirked, "You're welcome to crash there if you want. Hell, you might not even need to after all."
Hap cocked an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," She released a cloud of smoke, "If you play your cards right, you might get to stay off campus." She winked.
Happy grunted, taking a step towards her, his hand settling on the wall next to her ear. "Who's Maverick?" Hap asked, his eyes flashing as he raked up and down her body, settling for a moment on her cleavage before coming back up to her face.
So the boys had told Hap about her guard dog. Maverick was a blue nose Pit Bull she rescued from the San Joaquin shelter a week ago when she'd moved into the house. Chibs and Tig had made it clear, she couldn't live there without protection. Before Stevie could answer, a cheer rose outside. She peeked her head out the doorway to see a dark sedan, american made this time, pull up into the lot. Bobby was home.
Before she could leave the office, Hap caught her mouth in a hard kiss, his fingers gripping her biceps fiercely. "This isn't finished." He growled. Then he released her and left the office, joining his brothers in welcoming Bobby home.
Stevie slumped against the door frame for a moment, watching Bobby emerge from the car and get swallowed up by the crew. What was she thinking? She knew she couldn't change Happy. If she was really honest, she didn't want to. She just wanted him to pick up the phone once in awhile. Was that too much to ask?
Happy let the exhilaration of the moment carry him away from his current frustrations. Who was this Maverick guy? Why did everyone seem to know more about her than he did? He was, well had been, fucking her for Christ's sake. Did she take it seriously? Hell, maybe she didn't, he didn't do relationships, so talking wasn't really on the table. If she didn't take him seriously, he would end it. Happy Lowman didn't share.
Jax Teller rolled into TM after dumping the Mayan's body, down right exhausted. He still had one more promise to keep tonight. He backed in his bike and headed into the clubhouse to find the guest of honor and get himself a drink. Then if was time to help Happy pull his head out his ass.
Stevie settled at the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hand as she watched Happy and Tig play pool. Two blonde croweaters were vying for Happy's attention, one getting bold enough to rub his shoulders after he took a shot and missed. He didn't shrug her off right away, his eyes searching for Stevie's across the room. Once he knew she was watching him, he growled at the blonde rubbing his shoulder. "Fuck off." She pouted in response, but removed her hands, still lingering by his side.
Stevie shook her head, how was she supposed to compete with women who looked like the two croweaters circling Happy? They were tall, lanky supermodels, beach blonde with racks that put hers to shame.
The clubhouse door opened and Jax walked in. Thank God. Stevie thought, watching Jax first go greet Bobby before heading her way. She set the glass down on the bar and twirled a curl between her fingers.
Jax had to admit, if Happy hadn't laid claim on Stevie, he'd would've at least tried harder to get a taste. He loved Tara, but goddamn. There was something incredibly sexy about a woman who had that coveted ride or die attitude with the patch to match. "Hey darlin," Jax smirked, sliding up to the bar.
"Evening, Jax." Stevie smirked, wondering how exactly he was going to "push up" on her.
He ordered a beer, and took a long drag when it came.
"How was the Mayan thing?" Stevie asked, trying to look at least a little intrigued by the blonde biker.
"Fine. All good." He sighed. "You ready?" He asked, raising his beer to her, she obliged him, raising her glass to clink with his bottle.
Stevie bit her lip, "Can I get a little play by play so I don't make an ass of myself?"
"Sure." Jax smirked, setting down his beer. "Just act natural, we're gonna talk for a moment, make sure Hap is watching…" He glanced over at the pool table to confirm what they both could feel. Hap had stopped mid shot to look up at the two of them. Jax smirked, "Then I'll lean in and.." He leaned in to murmur in her ear, his hand smoothing her hair back over her shoulder, his hand smoothing down her back. He chuckled a little when Stevie jumped a little at the skin to skin contact. "Then I'll suggest we go somewhere a little more private. All you have to do is seem a little interested." He leaned back, taking a long drag of beer. He left his hand on the small of her back, which just so happened to be exposed skin tonight, "It will work, I promise." He winked.
Happy couldn't believe his eyes. SAMCRO's VP, Jax Teller was pushing up on Stevie. Jax had his hands in her hair, then the bastard was actually touching her, his fingers smoothing along with exposed skin of her lower back. He sunk the shot and moved around the table. He lined up for his next shot when Tig scoffed, "Would ya look at that."
Hap glanced up again, this time Jax had his fingers back in Stevie's hair, his face dangerously close to hers. Stevie laughed, biting her lip. Hap knew her and Jax grew up together, and now that they were in the same club, maybe things had heated up between them. His brow furrowed, why would she let him get so close this afternoon? Then allow him to kiss her in the office. Stevie Vale wasn't a woman you could manhandle around. Unless...unless she was deliberately trying to make him jealous. Goddamn it. If that was what she was after, it would working perfectly. Or, she really didn't take him seriously. Why would she? He certainly didn't act like she was more than just a convenient fuck.
"Aye brother." Chibs nodded, "Seems our VP is working his lucky charms, tonight!" He laughed.
Tig smirked, "They kinda look hot together, ya know?" He sighed, "Like biker Ken and Barbie."
Hap grit his teeth. Biker Ken and Barbie? There was no chance in Hell he was gonna let that happen. He slammed his pool stick down on the table. "Game over." Hap growled despite Tig's protests. He stalked over to the bar, the need to possess Stevie running hot through his veins.
"He's headed this way, isn't he?" Stevie murmured. Jax nodded in confirmation. Stevie smiled easily, letting herself laugh at Jax's slightly panicked expression.
Hap slid between Jax and Stevie, putting his back to Stevie.
"Hey, Hap." Jax smirked, "Glad to see you made it back to Charming."
Hap just nodded, taking a drag of the beer the prospect set in front of him.
Stevie scoffed and put her hand on Happy's shoulder, "Hap, Jax and I are having a conversation here-"
"Conversation's over." He growled, glancing at her over his shoulder.
"Look, Hap." Jax sighed, "We were just talking, alright?" He lit a cigarette, taking a drag. "We're just friends."
"All due respect, VP." Happy spat, "Doesn't look like just friends to me."
"What's it matter to you, anyway?" Stevie challenged, sliding off her stool, turning her back to the rest of room.
Hap growled, reached out, gripping her upper arm. "Not just some pussy."
"Could've fooled me, asshole." Stevie shrugged off his touch, knocking back the rest of her glass. "Thanks for the drink, Jax." She smiled at the VP before setting her glass down on the bar and heading off towards the dorms, completely ignoring the rage filled look the club assassin was giving her.
Hap pushed off the bar to follow her, but Jax stepped in his way. "Hap." Jax said cooly. "Look man, I don't want any trouble." He sighed.
"Then move." Hap grunted, ready to shove the man out of the way if he had to. He couldn't let Stevie go like that, he just couldn't.
"Would ya just hear me out for a sec?" Jax insisted, sitting back down on his barstool.
Hap clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists for a moment. He gave the VP a single nod and sat down on the stool next to him.
Jax shook his head. "Listen, you gotta make up your mind, bro." He sighed, "You're right, Stevie isn't, 'just some pussy' hanging around the clubhouse. Either you're in, or you're out. Stevie doesn't do that back and forth, halfway shit." Hap grunted. He wondered if Jax knew that from experience. "If you're looking for a convenient fuck, Stevie Vale isn't it."
"I know, bro." Hap sighed, shaking his head. He sighed heavily. "I'm so fucked." He waved over the prospect, ordering a bottle of whiskey. If he was going to bang on Stevie's door, he needed something for a peace offering.
"Right there with ya, bro." Jax quipped, flicking the ash from his cigarette.
Hap's eyebrows rose, "Tara?" he asked, feeling a little less like a pussy if the VP was getting serious about settling down.
"Yeah, looking that way." Jax clapped him on the shoulder, "Oh and you're welcome." He smirked. Hap just cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" Jax scoffed, Hap's brow furrowed. "Jesus, Hap. I don't have a death wish. Pushing up on Stevie was the only way I could think of to get you to pull your head out of your ass." He winked, then slid off his stool to go join Tig and Chibs at the pool table.
Happy watched Jax go, mulling over the VP's confession. So Stevie was trying to make him jealous. He still needed to figure out who the hell this Maverick character was. He grabbed the bottle and stalked back towards the dorms, heading straight for her room.
Dearest Readers,
Enemy - Ryan Corn - This is a new song that hit the airwaves on Friday, February 3rd. I'd come across the promo video on Facebook and was hooked. Check out his new EP, The Pressure. He's heavily influenced by one of my music heroes, Jon Foreman (frontman for Switchfoot) and you can definitely hear it in his tracks.
I think I wrote this chapter in about an hour. Now I've been editing it for like five days. I'm just done toying with it. I'm not really happy with my portrayal of jealous Happy. Sigh. So here it is, so we can continue with the story.
Don't worry next chapter is half written, look for an update by the end of the week.
xoxo
Lumora The White
