Maxine arrived at CaraCara a with Half-Sack and Cherry. It'd been cheerfully explained to Maxine by Cherry that CaraCara was a porn studio, so she was surprised at the sight of the drab, grey building. She certainly wouldn't have guessed what went on inside from the exterior, but that was probably the point. Half-Sack was supposed to help set up early for the party, and his girlfriend wasn't going to leave him alone with a room of porn stars. Somehow, as always, Maxine got dragged into helping.
"WOMEN OF ANARCHY" proclaimed a sign hanging above the wide warehouse doorway. The font looked similar to the rockers on the Sons' cuts.
"Women of Anarchy?" Maxine questioned aloud. She hadn't been asking anyone in particular, but a blonde haired woman appeared out of nowhere, heels clicking on the pavement. Maxine was pretty sure her name was Luna or Luanne something. Some old lady with an old man in prison.
"Isn't it great?!" she exclaimed. "Came up with it myself. Wait 'til you see the girls, they have just the best little outfits. The guys are going to love it." She pulled Maxine along as she spoke. She continued to chatter while Maxine examined the studio.
"Who's this, Lu? New talent?" asked a slim brunette with wildly curled dark hair.
"I'm Maxine. Just a friend," she said, taking in the girl's outfit. Aside from the skimpy black lingerie and platform heels, she wore a black silk vest and had a fake toy gun strapped to her hip. What was notable about the vest, however, was the 'Sgt. At Arms' and 'Redwood Original' patches, along with a reaper on the back. The top rocker read 'SONS OF ANARCHY' and the bottom 'CARACARA.' The realization was like a slap to the face.
"Are you... are you supposed to be Tig?" Maxine was incredulous.
"Oh, I'm so glad you figured it out! Yeah, I am. That's the theme; all the girls are dressed like a Son," replied porn star Tig.
"I just thought it was a perfect way to show the new partnership between the studio and the club, don't you think?" added Lu-something or other.
"It's... very creative, Lu-... anne," said Maxine, somewhat comfortingly. She hoped she guessed the right name. The older woman looked pleased, then excused herself to go set up things. In truth, Maxine thought the whole thing seemed kind of creepy. But the sight of women in Sons cuts, even silky ones, gave her pause.
Left alone, Maxine checked out the rest of the outfits. There was a female President, Vice-President, and Secretary, all matching the Sgt. At Arms; a girl without a vest that she assumed was Happy, based on the small smiling faces drawn on her stomach. Some girls wore unbuttoned, silky shirts, the same cornflower blue as the Teller Morrow staff versions – complete with Teller Morrow logo and embroidered names.
She spotted the female-porn versions of Chibs and Opie, and then her eyes fell upon what could only be Juice's imitator. Her mouth couldn't help but drop open a bit. Red, frilly underwear and matching bra, a silky TM shirt claiming 'Juice' over the heart, and a pair of unmistakable lightning bolts placed at her hip bones, directing between her thighs. Her hair was jet black, falling in soft curls to her shoulders. Female-Juice was even a similar shade of olive to the male inspiration, though Juice definitely didn't possess the curves of this girl. Maxine wasn't sure she'd seen many prettier girls than her. Her eyes trailed after her, watching as the porn actress moved around the room. She had enormous, pillowy lips that seemed to match her hips and ass, and thickly lashed eyes that looked so dark they were nearly black. Maxine's gaping was interrupted at that very moment by an excited Cherry, who was modeling a vest like all the other girls, except it only had a bottom 'PROSPECT' rocker.
"Luanne is amazing! I can't believe she made this for me!" Cherry danced in front of Maxine's line of vision, twirling around in her new outfit.
"You look great, Cherry. Should we be helping set stuff up now?"
"Oh, yeah. I'll go find Sack, maybe some of the girls over there need a hand?" She gestured towards a cluster of female-Sons, and Maxine's throat caught a little at the sight of Juice. Well, female version of Juice, who happened to be staring right back at Maxine with a small smile.
"Cassidy," came the voice, hand extended. "But you can call me Cass."
"Maxine." She accepted the shake. "I'm fine with Max or Maxie, too."
"Friend of the boys?" asked Cassidy.
"Yeah, Juice and Half-Sack."
"Ah, so you know Juice. Can't say I've had a chance to meet him yet, though the girls around here seem to be really big fans. So, you're just a friend?"
"Just a friend," Maxine replied firmly.
"Well, guess that makes us friends then, seeing as I'm pretending to be Juice tonight." Cassidy smiled at Maxine. It was different from Juice's smile – not the same open friendliness – but just as bright. Hers almost seemed to be hiding a funny secret, teasing at the corners.
Maxine didn't have time to think up a reply as the room suddenly filled with booming music set to heavy bass beats. Her new friend grabbed her hands, gesturing to dance. They were joined by the other CaraCara girls, who seemed to know all the lyrics to every song as they writhed next to Maxine and Cassidy. Time flew by as shots were passed around and practically poured down Maxine's throat. Sobriety is hard when you go to this many parties. She didn't dwell on the thought for long though, since Cassidy had begun to sway her body against Maxine's, guiding their hips with her hands. After countless songs, Maxine was feeling drunk from the tequila and Cass' teasing smile, so she excused herself to the bathroom. Everything swam in front of her eyes a little. Running a hand down to smooth her crumpled dress, she emerged from the bathroom at the sound of the boys arriving. Based on the Scottish-accented yells of approval, Chibs had evidently found his mistress in the TM shirt. But Maxine's eyes weren't on the Scot.
Cassidy was on Juice's arm. Her fingers stroked and squeezed his muscled biceps as she looked up at him, biting her lip. Juice, meanwhile, had a grin on his face that couldn't possibly get wider. Gold-ringed fingers trailed the fake tattoos on her hips that mimicked the pair on his head, and Cassidy let out a breathy giggle.
Had she been sober, Maxine might have felt frozen in place, but instead she wobbled sickly and walked outside as fast as she could. The pack of cigarettes she grabbed from her back pocket nearly fell to the ground; her hands were shaking so bad. After the initial rush the trembling somewhat subsided and Maxine let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. Even though she knew she wasn't in the best condition to ride, Maxine set off for the clubhouse, knowing it would be empty and suddenly wanting to be alone. She felt hot and ashamed, and wasn't entirely sure why.
The parking lot was bare. Not even Piney's trike was outside, which wasn't too surprising considering he'd been frequenting the cabin lately. Maxine walked over to the boxing ring. Scuffing her shoes against the pavement, she decided that building up a sweat would make her feel better and sober things up. She'd go to Juice's room in the clubhouse – he normally let her leave training clothes and shower gear there, and she'd dropped her bag back off earlier when they'd apologized.
She'd barely gotten the clubhouse door open when a knife was there to greet her face.
Maxine screamed and jumped backwards in surprise. She swore a blue-streak when she saw who was holding the knife.
"Chucky! What the fuck are you doing?" Maxine stared at him and angrily swiped at the small cut on her cheek, coming away with blood.
"Don't tell Jax! Or Clay! I thought you were an intruder. I was just trying to protect the clubhouse! I'm all alone, I promise."
"Fine, fine. I won't tell. But no more stabbing at anyone who walks in the door!"
"I accept that."Chucky carefully placed the large knife on the bar counter, then grabbed a rag for Maxine to wipe her face with.
"Why are you here anyway? It's a Friday."
"Two fingers isn't enough to get on the CaraCara guest list. But that's okay; I've been doing lots of good stuff around here! I organized the bar and cleaned the bathroom so far," he replied proudly. Maxine suddenly felt bad.
"Do you want some help cleaning? I was just going to grab some things from Juice's room and head home soon anyway."
"Oh no, that's not necessary. You go on ahead. Have a good night, I'm sorry about your cheek."
Chucky shuffled off, grabbing a vacuum from a closet and turning it on. Maxine watched him before turning and grabbing a few things from Juice's bedroom. She set her stuff down by the door, and then found a bucket and filled it with soapy water. Her and Half-Sack had taken care of the majority of the mess earlier, but Chucky seemed intent on making the clubhouse spotless. The two of them cleaned in silence, broken only by the hum of the vacuum and his happy, tuneless humming. Chucky disappeared eventually into a back room and didn't return so Maxine assumed he'd finally gone to bed. She glanced at her watch. It was 3:17 in the morning, no wonder why she was suddenly so sleepy. She leaned back against the couch.
"Hey... hey kid..." Bobby's voice woke Maxine. "Did you clean?"
"Eh?" she murmured groggily.
"Max? What are you doing here? I never saw you at the party," came Juice's voice. She opened her eyes just a bit. Juice was standing in front of her, a look of concern on his face and an arm around Cassidy, who had a smile that Maxine was too sleepy to decipher.
"I, uh, got too drunk. Had to pick some things up here... Must've fallen asleep."
"Well, fall asleep here any time if you're gonna clean things up like this," chuckled Bobby.
"Put the Prospect to shame," added Jax's voice from across the room.
"No, no," she said hastily. "It was all Chucky. I barely did anything."
"I can't believe you fuckin' left a party like that to come here and clean with Chucky," scoffed Tig. "And you think I'm weird."
"I wanted to leave before you did something gross," she replied. "Anyway, I'm gonna head back to my apartment. Bye." Maxine grabbed her bag and rushed for the door, but Juice grabbed her by the shoulders, finally letting go of Cass.
"Hey, I don't think you're good to ride. Just nap on the couch a little longer, okay?"
"I'm fine, Juice." She shrugged off his touch. "Have fun," she said, glancing at Cassidy. She realized as she rode away from the lot that it came off a lot colder than she meant it to. The palest pink shimmer emerged on the morning horizon as the engine roared towards home.
Maxine avoided TM for the rest of the weekend, noting with some annoyance that neither Sack nor Juice texted her. Her annoyance only deepened when she showed up on Monday at 5am to practice and Sack was still asleep. He probably stayed up all night with Cherry, she thought bitterly. As she stood outside contemplating whether to train alone or just go home, Cass emerged from the clubhouse wearing a baggy 'Reaper Crew' shirt that Maxine assumed belonged to Juice.
"Do you smoke?" called out Cassidy. Maxine silently walked over and accepted the light.
"You're up early," she continued, unperturbed by Maxine's sullenness.
"So are you," countered Maxine.
"Couldn't sleep, Juice always snores so loud."
Always? They'd only met on Friday. Guess this is why Juice didn't text me all weekend... Maxine realized she didn't want to think about it anymore, so she ignored her thoughts.
"I'm supposed to be training with Sack. We box together most mornings, but he must be sleeping."
"Oh. Cool. Yeah, it was a bit of a late night here." Her voice lowered, "haven't seen you around since the party... You doin' okay?" Cassidy actually looked worried.
"I'm fine, just been busy. You don't need to ask that." Maxine wasn't in the mood for this.
"Well, who else is going to ask?" Maxine raised a brow at Cassidy's comment.
"Thanks for the smoke." Her boot crushed the smoking remains and she stalked off to her bike. Maxine tore out of the lot as Sack came running out the clubhouse door, huffing, wearing boxers and slippers.
"Shit. That was Max, wasn't it?" he asked Cassidy.
"In the flesh."
"Shit."
Someone was knocking at Maxine's front door. Her eyes narrowed, and she reached into a kitchen drawer for the small automatic gun that she wasn't supposed to have, according to her probation officer. She wasn't expecting anyone, and aside from Wendy she'd never brought anyone over. Walking over to the door handle, Maxine flipped the lock to open, and then stepped away from the door to set up a clear shot. She felt fleeting déjà-vu of her last encounter with Chucky, although the roles were reversed now. The knocker opened the door cautiously, calling out Maxine's name, and covered a cry when she saw the gun pointed at her face. Maxine lowered the gun but didn't apologize.
"What are you doing here Cass? And how did you find my place?"
Cassidy looked shaky, which was perhaps understandable considering mere seconds ago she'd had a gun kissed against her forehead.
"I came by to ch-check on you. Juice found your address somehow through some database. I'm s-sorry." Listening to this, Maxine sighed, sinking down into her only couch and gesturing to Cass to join.
"I'm the one who should apologize. Cass, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. But I don't understand why Juice is sending you to check up on me, either."
"He's not! I came here because I felt bad about this morning. I just asked him to find your address; I didn't know it was so secret."
"Oh."
"I really think we could be good friends," said Cassidy, reaching her hand out and holding Maxine's. "Juice thinks you're amazing, and when I met you at the party... I don't know anyone like you."
Maxine's brow creased in confusion. Huh? Cassidy's hand stroked Maxine's cheek as she tilted towards her, kissing her lips.
"Is that okay?" Cassidy whispered.
It's more than okay, thought Maxine. Except it made all of the conflicting feelings she'd had in her head lately even more distorted. Maxine didn't know if it was she or Cass who leaned in first, but suddenly they were kissing again, lips parting. Cass had the most incredibly kissable lips, and she tasted like fruity lip gloss. Their bodies fit together in a way Maxine couldn't have imagined as Cassidy straddled her lap, allowing Maxine to admire the softness of her curves. But Maxine pulled away.
"I think you should go."
Cassidy looked hurt at first, but nodded. She gave Maxine a sad smile before standing and walking out the door. Fuck, thought Maxine. Fifteen minutes later, her worn runners struck against the pavement, as if she hoped punishing her body to exhaustion would take away the guilt she felt.