"The 3 types of terror: The Gross-out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, it's when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm. The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, it's when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. And the last and worse one: Terror, when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It's when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel its breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there's nothing there..." ― Stephen King


"Yeah..yeah, okay," I whispered. It was as if a train had wrecked into my mind and my thoughts were spilling all over the place like loose cargo. I couldn't quite get a handle on what he had told me. "Give me a minute," I told Charlie, "I have to grab some stuff."

Every part of my being was telling me to pack all of my things and hit the road. That's who I was. What's that saying? When the going gets tough, the tough get going. That wasn't me. I was genetically wired to get out when things get the least bit unbearable. I couldn't leave, though. I didn't necessarily understand it, but as cliché as it sounds, my heart is keeping me grounded while my emotions run wild.

I'm scared, terrified actually, of a man who is seemingly infatuated with me or my life or both; I'm scared to face the repercussions of a crime I did not commit and I'm angry, so angry that some one who I couldn't even place a face or a name to, was capable of ruining my life without putting much effort into it. I'm angry that I can't pack up and leave now. That had always been my fail safe, leaving. But I can't. I've allowed myself to become attached to another person that I couldn't bear to be apart from. I'm mad at myself for that. The thought of leaving him, leaving Charming, breaks my heart. I'm dreading the look on his face when I tell him that someone is stalking me. He'll be the martyr and take the blame for it, I was sure. Hell, I'm positive he'll be the one to pack my bags and escort me to the freeway. Perhaps he'll say something hurtful, to make it easier for me to get in my car and never look back. I sighed and walked inside the house to collect a fresh set of clothes.

Everything seemed to be in place. Nothing was broken or even appeared touched. Charlie followed behind me, making sure the house was empty. He opened up closets and searched the rooms.

"No one's here," I said, watching him. "Whoever left the pictures took off."

"It's not a crime to be sure." He replied. "I know men like this, I know what they're capable of."

"If you're trying to scare me, don't bother."

He sighed. "Listen Nic, I know you want to feel like you can handle every thing yourself.. like you don't need anyone's help, but that's not realistic. Everyone needs help at some point. Stop fighting it."

"Yeah, ok, I guess." I threw my bag of clothes over my shoulders and crossed my arms.

"Get out of here," Charlie said, "I'm gonna lock up all the windows and watch the house for a few hours... see if anyone comes back. Maybe I can get a look at his face if he does and have a sketch artist from the department draw him up."

I nodded and retreated out to my car. I sunk in to my seat and inhaled deeply, grasping the steering wheel as hard as I could. My nails dug in to the leather, piercing it.


The atmosphere in the Teller-Morrow lot was loud and boisterous, as usual. People were crowded around a boxing ring outside. I parked my car and headed past everyone.

The bar room was practically empty, minus a few hang-arounds and cheap women. I grabbed an entire bottle of Jack from behind the counter and headed to Jax's room, ignoring the stares from the crow eaters on the way there.

I shut his door and threw my bag in the corner of the room. Plopping on to the bed, I opened the whiskey, intent on drowning myself in it. Jax must be outside in the crowd, watching the fight. I was thankful, that meant I could put off telling him for a little while longer.

I brought the bottle to my lips and let it burn the back of my throat. The sting was relaxing in a way. It meant it was doing it's job. You drink enough and reality just becomes a faded world with a million problems that you didn't have to be a part of for the time being. It's an escape, definitely. Maybe that's why people turn into addicts. It's easier to drink, shoot, smoke, snort, or run away from your issues than it is to face them. I chuckled to myself, entertaining the idea that perhaps I was addicted to running and that by my choice to stay here, I had beat my addiction. Or gained a whole new one, I thought, eyeing the Jack.

I stripped out of my clothes, instead throwing on a tight black tank top and a pair of low cut jeans. Grabbing my bottle and lighting up a cigarette, I made my way back to the parking lot.

The crowd was egging the fight on. I was able to peak through the bodies to see the scrawny prospect, Half Sack, boxing a much bigger man I wasn't familiar with. Half Sack appeared to have the upper hand. He was throwing blows left and right. The man was unsuccessfully blocking them, sporting a bloody eye and cut lip. Some of the Son's were sitting at a bench screaming and wooing with excitement. I made my way over to them and practically fell into the seat. I steadied myself, embarassed.

"You ok, sweetheart." Bobby asked.

"I'm fine," I replied, taking a gulp from my bottle. "Have you seen Jax?"

"He had business to take care of.. He should be here later." Business, I thought, were they always so vague? I nodded.

"So the prospect can hold his own.." I stated.

"Yeah, he's pretty tough." Juice chimed in. "He was the Junior Lightweight Champion of the Armed Forces boxing competition."

"Oh." I sighed, watching the men jump up from excitement as I heard a fist land. They moved up closer to see the fight, leaving me alone with Juice. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked. "You seem upset."

I laughed. "Nothing's wrong. Just the usual shit, you know." I fiddled with the bottle.

Juice might as well have been a stranger to me, but he was easy to talk to. I weighed the pros and cons of opening up to him, before letting the alcohol make the final decision. "Someone's trying to kill me..I think. Hell, I don't even know... " I trailed off.

He looked at me, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm in danger. I don't know why, but I am." His eyes lit up.

"Jesus Christ, Nichole," Juice raised his voice, "have you told Jax?" I shook my head no.

"Wait," he swallowed, "how do you know someone's trying to kill you?"

"I don't.. I mean, someone has been following me around.. snapping pictures of me and today, he left rose petals on my car. At Gemma's.. I went home, and Charlie was there. My door was kicked in and there was pictures of me in an envelope. One was from that night of the shooting. It was taken in front of the bar."

"You have to tell Jax.. I have to tell the club." He went to stand up and I grabbed his arm. I was immediately kicking myself for talking to him about this.

"No, please don't. I'm going to tell him.. I just need time.. Please, don't tell them. Please." I begged him. He sighed.

"This is serious. I can't keep it from the club."

"Just let me tell Jax first." I said. He scanned my pleading face before giving in.

"Tell him soon." He ordered. I shook my head in agreement. Juice sighed. "Look, if there was any way I could keep this a secret, I would. But this is a serious matter. I'm sorry, if you don't tell him within the next few days, I will.."

"I know," I said. Bobby and the others sat back down at the table, grabbing their beers and celebrating the fight. I excused myself in a hurry, while Juice awkwardly fidgeted in his seat.

Before reaching the club house door, the roar of motorcycles caught my attention. I turned expectantly, waiting to see Jax pull in. And he did, with Ima on the back of his bike. She hopped from it like a giddy school girl, removing his helmet and leaning down to whisper something in his ear. He gave her one of his famous smirks and my blood boiled. I dropped the bottle of whiskey and it shattered, spraying my shoes with liquid at its impact. I was pissed. And I was leaving.


I slammed the door of Jax's dorm room and stopped to regain myself. I could not stand that woman. She is the epitome of garbage, and I didn't want her in a 100 mile radius of Jax. The thought of her arms around his waist made me sick. I sighed, and grabbed my bag. I just needed to be alone; correction, I just need a reason to be alone. As pissed as I was, I knew what I was really doing. I was picking a fight with him so I would have an excuse to not tell him what was actually going on. Even inebriated, I still knew how my subconscious mind worked.

"You going somewhere?" The door creaked open and Jax stood in the frame of it. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow.

"Home."

"Why?" He questioned.

"I don't feel good." I lied.

"You're drunk." He walked toward me and reached for my face. I pulled away.

He looked at me questioningly, before sliding his hands in his pockets.

"I seen you and Ima." I stated. He sighed.

"That's why you're leaving? Because I gave her a ride?"

I shook my head. "I have a lot of shit on my mind. And I'm too tired and stressed out to fight with her over you again. So she wins, okay? She wins..and the mere thought of you two being in the same room as each other drives me crazy... So I'm going to leave."

"Luann asked me to ride her here," he pleaded, "some of her girls are being harassed by a competitor so we're helping her make sure they all stay safe. Believe me, I don't care about her. It's just business, darlin'."

"And you got assigned Ima patrol by coincidence?" I asked, "you know what? I don't care. Don't answer that."

I turned toward the door, and he grabbed me. "Don't go. Stay with me, please. The mere thought of you leaving drives me crazy." He quoted me.

I wanted to oblige him, but I knew if I stayed, I'd have to have the conversation I'd been dreading. I put my hand over his and swallowed loudly.

"Nichole, you don't get it, do you? These girls who hang here don't mean shit to me. They never have. No one ever has..meant shit to me. You don't ever have to worry about someone else. This club was all I ever had, and then I seen you walking down the street that night and my whole entire world changed. You're important to me, just you. So don't push me away, because I know that's what you're doin'." He pulled me into him and kissed me pleadingly. I gave in for a split second before pushing him away. I rested my head on his chest and then looked up at him.

I knew what I was going to do. Well, not exactly. However, I knew what I wasn't going to do, and that was send him into a spiral of remorse by telling him I was in danger. "...Jax." I barely choked out, fully aware of my actions. I cleared my throat and spoke confidently.

"I don't want to see you anymore."

The look he gave me broke my heart. Anger flashed through his eyes before becoming over taken with pain. I shuddered as I felt my stomach fall. I wanted to grab him, and kiss him and tell him I didn't mean it. I wanted to tell him that he's the only thing I want. But I didn't, I couldn't. I turned to leave again, and this time he didn't stop me.


I pulled into the drive way, nearly running over the mailbox. The house was dark and appeared to be empty. I grabbed the gun Gemma gave me from the middle console, loaded it and cocked it back.

I walked inside, leaving the door open behind me. I dragged a chair to the middle of the living room and I sat there with my back to the main entrance, twirling the silver weapon in my fingers. The dark of the night filled the room but I wasn't afraid anymore. Someone was after me, but I couldn't deny the irrational numbness I felt. It probably had something to do with all the tears I shed on my way here. I just couldn't feel any emotion anymore. I needed this to be over. If he wanted to play a game, then that's what we would do. But I'm a sore loser, and I'm not going down without a fight.


A/N:I know it has been forever since I've updated, but I was in the process of moving and completely uprooting my life so I hope you all can understand. I do plan on finishing this story. I reread the last few chapters a few times to make sure I was continuing in the direction the story is supposed to go but if something doesn't make sense, let me know. A new chapter will be available in a few days to a week. Reviews are always welcome, good or bad. Thank you!