The engine roared loudly while I sped down an ideally empty highway, Kid Rock's American Badass blasted through the speakers, I was on my way to my scene, and yet I was still far from pleased. A good deal of that could be attributed to the two sitting in the car with me, smoking like chimneys and laughing about something or other. I was asked an occasional question about where we were going, but other than that I pretended I was concentrating on the road. I really didn't need to, I knew the way to Fresno better than I would ever admit to anyone in my family.
This was not how I planned my night.
It wasn't that I didn't completely and utterly adore Tig, but I knew him far better than most. Since I first met him over thirteen or so years or so, I was very familiar with his temperament and general nature. Tig really, really liked women, that was no secret. He liked his women, his booze, his drugs, and he got off on intimidating people with an occasional brawl once in awhile. I had a strong feeling that by bringing him to the street racing scene, where all the things he loved were found, I was opening Pandora's box.
Okay so that might not have been the only reason I wasn't thrilled. Despite the fact that Piney calls me his daughter, I still didn't like it when he told me off. Granted, that wasn't the first time he did, but I usually didn't have it weigh me down like now. I felt like I was a little kid again when he told me about watching my mouth around members outside of SAMCRO. It was one thing for me to mouth off in front of them, but a totally other thing when there were members of other chapters around. Piney told me I was lucky that Koz was so close to the Mother Chapter, but he made it clear that if it happened again I wouldn't like the result. It didn't matter whether I liked a member or not, when Sons not in SAMCRO were around, I was to hold my tongue.
I understood, hell I knew I was being purposely vexatious the entire time. The way Happy was looking at me made me feel weird, and goading him always snapped him back to his good ol' 'happy' self. Tig and Koz had been at their playground bullshit for as long as I could remember, I didn't even think of the fact that he wasn't SAMCRO, but I did know better. I hated it when Piney was right, but I never went against my Godfather.
I was raised by SAMCRO, the only little girl from the First Nine. I loved growing up in the club, it was a big family to me and each of them had a hand at raising me, and I knew the affection they held for me. Piney really stepped up when my dad walked out on us and went back to his home in Ireland. He took me to school, made sure I never wanted for anything and kept Aaron and I out of trouble. Jax, Aaron, and I were raised close, spending almost every day at Teller-Morrow and with the Sons. I was pretty much a pariah at school because everyone knew I was a kid of the club and were either too scared or too high and mighty to associate with the kid of an outlaw. Man did it make me angry as hell when that people looked down at them, after all the pains that they had all gone through to keep Charming as safe as possible. That was something that always set me off, and as a kid with an even shorter fuse than I had now, it was the source for a lot of trouble.
The club was always there for me, all doing the best they could to make life as good for me as possible despite the many dangerous situations they faced. In return though, there was absolutely nothing that I wouldn't do for them. Although at that moment I was questioning myself on that 'do anything for them' part, with Tig relaying to Happy all the things he heard from my wonderful ex about the scene, sounding like a kid on Christmas.
"There are actually bitches that do those car magazine ads walkin' around with some crews, they're even trained, it's fuckin' mind blowin' man!" I rolled my eyes at Tig, just from the tone he had I knew he was getting way too excited.
"You do know it's not a free for all right?" I glanced over at him briefly as I switched gears to pass a couple of cars. "The girls there stay with the crews that pay for the sweatbands they call skirts, and you need permission from whatever crew they are with to get with them. Just sayin'." The girls there that were racers or mechanics were the sweetbutts of the racing world, and I couldn't stomach them. See, Croweaters I could understand. A lot of them there was no place else for them to go, and the guys kept them safe and put a roof over their heads and provided them with food and protected them. It didn't work like that in the racing world, the girls made themselves to be little better than prostitutes.
Tig of course waved off my warning. "Pssh, don't worry about me Dollface, I'll manage. Ritter gonna be there?" I held back a grimace at that, realizing how stupid it was of me to not ask.
"I don't know. He might be," I said in a cool tone. I really didn't feel like dealing with Dante after the crazy week I had, especially with Tig right there. The club never liked any of my boyfriends, Clay always being quick to point out that I date dumbass punks. I was with Dante for four years, the guys got used to him, but that didn't mean they liked him. They stopped being total assholes to him after our first two years together, figuring he'd stick around. Gemma and Jax were the only ones who never hid their disdain for him in all the time we were together. Jax especially.
In Dante's defense, he had been a good sport about it. He got that they were my family and I was the only girl of that generation, which came with an overdose of protective attitudes. He was never best friends with anyone, but at least didn't feel weird coming home with me for an occasional visit.
We weren't together anymore though, and that meant a whole new ballgame for Tig here and a whole new headache for me.
Happy sat in the backseat, loading both his and Tig's guns, talking only to Tig, That was fine with me though, it made the trip that much more bearable. I couldn't believe that Tig couldn't just take Koz, I liked him. Honestly, he was like a more rational version of Tig, and possibly a less sadistic one, yet the two couldn't be in the same room with each other for prolonged periods of time.
I got off the highway exit to Fresno, biting my lip in anticipation. I really didn't have a good feeling about going there with these two in a place where the Sons didn't hold any sort of rule and those that did were sadistic dickheads that were corrupt to the point of disgust.
When we got on the main road that would take us to the old farm grounds right outside of Fresno, I turned into one of the side streets, pulling over in front of some apartment complex and shifting the gears into park.
Tig stopped his conversation with Happy and looked over at me. "What's up Dollface?" I reached over and turned down the music.
"We're almost there," I began, turning in my seat to look at both him and Happy. Even if I wasn't fond of him, I didn't want him to get hurt either. "Just... look be careful alright? I won't need babysitting, I already made a name for myself and they know who I am, but the racing world is a very different world than the MC world, yet the people are probably even more pigheaded and corrupt, though there are more punks. I don't go there for the company as much as for the cash and the experience, and there is a very good reason for that. It's going to be a battle of who's got the biggest dick and the fattest wallet, and the hottest ride. Groupies and crews are on every corner, and they follow the Blacktop Kings no matter what. If you're not known by name, you're the bottom of the barral and they'll sell you out quickly. You two have no rank there, and neither of you are used to that..."
I bit my lip again, looking between Tig and Happy before sighing quietly, my shoulders heaving in a slump, the cool chains from my tickling my bare back. "I don't want anything happening to you guys," I said glancing at Happy briefly before focusing my stare on Tig. "So watch your backs extra carefully tonight. Please."
"Aw, I knew you cared Dollface. Don't worry," Tig had a huge smirk on his face and placed his hand on my thigh, of course on the exposed skin. "Me and Hap will be fine. You just concentrate on burning some rubber for some cash."
The look on my face was a cross between bored and knowing, glancing from the callused hand on my thigh to Tig, who looked out the window casually as ever while smoking his cigarette. "Very reassuring. You know your hand is still on my thigh right?"
"Yep."
He kept his hand right where it was, showing no indication that he planned on moving it. "You know you could move it, if it's not too much trouble."
That damn Cheshire cat smirk was on his face, though he still didn't look over at me. "No trouble at all Dollface." His hand began to move up and down my thigh.
"Tig!"
Happy laughed under his breath in the back when I shoved Tig's hand off my leg, not able to contain my own giggle. "This is the last time I'm wearing a skirt around you if you're going to keep molesting me," I said, smile on my face as I pulled out of the parking spot to get back on the road.
"You're right, it ain't fair of me. I think it's only right if you feel me up right back." Oh Christ. If I didn't love him so much, I'd have throttled him by now.
"You're incorrigible." I glanced over at him, unable to hide the little smirk my lips twisted in.
Okay, so I felt a little bit better, but I was still uneasy about the whole thing. Passing through the Fresno, we were getting closer and closer to the meeting grounds. When we got out of city limits, I reached under the seat and hit the switch, turning on the red lights that were a mandatory installation for any racer. The area was heavily guarded, and if they saw me drive in without the little colored light next to my headlights, that would be really, really bad. There was a system in the street racing world, and because of that was why it survived for so long without the FEDs busting it.
I knew we were clear when I saw guys run out in front of me and take away the road block barriars. The road was dark as we drove, both Tig and Happy staring out the windows in silence on their guards. I kept my eyes out, watching the sides of the dark road in hope that they'd catch the signal. It wasn't until a bright light blinked through the orchid on the side of the road did I relax. I felt the familiar rush spike in my system, the smell of burnt rubber wafted through the car as I made a turn on a wide smooth dirt road.
Faint sounds of music blasting got louder and louder, sounds of shouts and engines joined the symphony of noise that contrasted the quiet road we just left. When I turned on the dirt road and on to the private air field, the familiar sight made me smile. A huge throng of people, cars parked everywhere, a DJ blasting music on an elevated stage, and of course girls that wore pieces of strings and cloth they tried to pass for clothes dancing on top of some of the vans and cars.
There was a mix of imports and muscle all over the grounds, people dancing and talking, and then further out was the start of the dig. Crowds cheered and gathered at the start of the airstrips while three cars lined up to hit the stage, or rather the strip, for a race. The starting line was a makeshift affair: orange cones stolen from road projects, battery-powered lights and stands cobbled together from scrap lumber that creaked alarmingly from the pulsating noise. Opposite of the starting line, was what we called the motor show. Trick drivers had there cars dance in an incredible pattern that drove the crowd nuts and the drivers received payment in the form of drugs and girls.
This place right here; lewd, gritty, and dangerous as it may be, was my thrill. The street racing scene had that combination of danger, satisfaction, and exhilaration that gave me a feeling like nothing else ever had. Could you just imagine being able to walk into a place full of strangers and have their total and solid respect? I earned every bit of that respect and every bit of the reputation that I had within the rings. I worked my way through all systems, and I did it all without working under any Head.
In the world of illegal street racing, there was a very clear and very strict hierarchy among the drivers. The two top ranks were the Pins and the Heads. The Pins were royalty, the one that ran everything in a particular area and usually came into the scene through money and connections. They were the ones that decide who is allowed to attend and they supply the meets, the guys with the money and respect. Then you got your Heads, they answered to the Pins, and ran their own crews. Heads were veteren racers with money, a whole lot of them were on the blacktop since back in the 50s. All the Heads had to provide their crew members with cars, and split the money with them. After them you got the racers; Tops, Slicks, and Rooks. I was a Top, one of the drivers that are either independent or under a Head and have won at least twenty races against other Tops. The Slicks are those that had won at least fifteen races in general and Rooks of course, are the starting drivers that can only get in the circle if they got a car that passed a Pin's inspection and were recommended by someone with a good reputation.
The rest were mechanics and groupies, none of which got a say in anything. Groupie skanks in barely there clothing were so common to be at this point that I totally bypassed them. They were there for unlimited fun and in turn got protection from whatever crew they belonged to.
The caste system of illegal street racing was strict, and there was a code of ethics that came with each rank. It took me two reckless and dedicated years to become a Top, and because I was independent, I got more respect from the Pins than those that worked under Heads. I had free movement within the circles, and had good relationships with enough Pins that I got some sweet deals on car parts.
Despite all the corruption, all the violence, and all the danger, I loved everything about it. It was something completely mine, something that was incredibly hard to earn while getting a college degree and being completely financially independent. I didn't get my reputation because of my family or my background, it was something entirely mine. That feeling of walking around the Pit was like nothing that I had ever imagined. The power with crowds parting for you without knowing you by anything other than your name and reputation made me feel proud every time. I was still young, and my need to escape through reckless driving came with a reward that no one could take away from me.
The first person that I saw coming up to the car was Greyson Harris, one of the Fresno's Pins. I blatantly looked him up and down, biting my lip with a pleased smirk on my face, knowing he loved the attention. Then again when you looked at him, how could you not look him over. Greyson might have been in his mid forties, but he could pass for mid thirties. He was a former boxer and champion fighter and to this day the muscles on his burly stocky frame bulged with definition. Strong jawline and thick neck, light stormy blue eyes that shamed mine as to how much they stood out, and short dark cropped hair was enough to make any girl's pupils dilate.
The light Australian accent definitely didn't hurt either.
"Well I'll be stuffed," his voice was enough to make my grin widen even more when he opened the door for me. "I can't believe it, last time I saw you, you were still driving that Hemi' Cuda. now a Firebird! And a Sleeper, very nice!" I took his hand and allowed him to help me out of the car. "Yea well, if I wanted to come all the way back here just to impress your gorgeous self, I needed one."
Greyson grinned and pulled me forward with one arm. "Gimme some sugar darlin'," he said with a grin as he presented his cheek for me to kiss. Greyson was probably one of my favorite Pins in California, though I was probably being bias since he's the one that gave me that start in street racing. It was hard to look past some of the unsettling parts of him, like how he ranked as high as some of the drugs and Black Market Kingpins, with prostitution and Lord knows what else to his name, but he always looked out for me and saw to it that I was safe so I couldn't complain. "I uh, brought some friends along," I said, one arm wrapped around his waist while we both looked at Tig and Happy getting out of the car. Tig's eyes practically lit up when he saw the girls dancing in the scraps of material they tried to pass as clothing.
"I see that. Trager, it's been awhile." Greyson pulled away from me and went over to shake Tig's hand. Greyson used Teller-Morrow Auto for all his personal repairs, or some of the messy jobs others mechanics wouldn't touch. Tig and him have known each other for a number of years, hell that was how I met him. When Clay let me work with the mechanics at the garage to give me something to do so I wouldn't completely lose myself in depression after my brother left to enlist in the service, Greyson said I had some talent with the power engines, and the fact that I figured out how to connect an NOS system without much guidance. What could I say, I always liked puzzles.
"Harris. Deciding to tag along and make sure that one over there stays outta trouble and doesn't come home with broken ribs again," Tig said smirking at me as I scowled. I had a knack for driving, but I wasn't always as good as I was now. There had been a fair couple of times that Greyson drove me home or to the hospital as a result of some nasty accidents from me getting too cocky, which suffice to say did not make Tig or any of the other guys happy in the least. Gemma threatened me to stay out of racing when I got to college, but I couldn't stay away. I was addicted to the rush.
"Good luck with that, she's insane when controlling metal muscle," Greyson looked back at me with a wink, which instantly softened my scowl. I had a role to play there, after all, and I needed to keep in that character. My scowl morphed into cute little smile, my head shaking in amusement.
"That's why I brought back up. This is Happy." Tig nodded his head at Happy, who was surveying his surroundings with careful precision and caution in a similar fashion to the one I had adopted since coming to the Pit.
The crowd of people was insanely huge, which told me that Fresno P.D. was completely under Harris's thumb by then. The air was thick with the scent of burnt rubber, motor oil, and gasoline and the ground shook from the power of the engines and the hip-hop music blasting from the speakers. My eyes scanned the crowd carefully, recognizing some faces from other races. I inwardly cringed when I recognized a couple of members from Dante's crew. So much for that vain hope of avoiding him.
"Anna, Tops are parked around on the other end of the starting line. You know how it goes love," Greyson said winking at me. "Your bodyguards can meet ya there." I gave myself some serious pride on not scowling then, just rolling my eyes and flashing them my signature smirk. "Don't keep me waiting too long, I am after all, only a feeble meek female," I said in a sweet bubbly tone, mocking them in a playful way. Tig narrowed his eyes and gave me a look, which only made me laugh as I pulled out.
The exquisite rush that accompanied the atmosphere was settling in, the ease and confidence in my driving. The cool smile stayed on my face as I watched the crowds part without hesitation. The sense of accomplishment was something I only attained on the scene, and it would be a damnable lie if I said I didn't love it.
I parked in the designated area for independent drivers, looking at the other cars to peer at the cars I recognized. So far, I was not overly ecstatic about who I knew was there. I had never been big on people, as too many of them had an ulterior motive and were about as honest as stolen car parts. Outside of my family, there had been only few that I trusted and considered friends. One of the ones I trusted the most had difficulty with the concept of monogamy and honesty. I had no plans to make that mistake again.
Getting out of the car I automatically saw some familiar faces, most that I haven't seen in years. The last time I had been here seemed like ages ago, still a rook with my old beat up Camero and trying to put up a fearless and tough stuff air like any typical teenager. I couldn't believe it had been almost five years now since that point in time.
I was back though, and as far as I was concerned back for good. My stuff at the apartment back down by L.A. could be sold after I packed it up. It's not like I left behind anything particularly valuable anyways.
People started coming up to me quickly, making small talk and asking me about life. Over the engines from the races and the blasting music, I could barely concentrate on a single conversation. A couple of people I knew more by reputation than anything else came up to talk to me, and I had quickly gotten into a deep conversation with Rajani, one of the best mechanics Greyson kept on board. I haven't seen her in years, but the Indian beauty didn't change a bit.
Yea did I mention she's hyperventilating gorgeous? Beautiful mocha skin, a figure that would put Marilyn Monroe to shame, and thick ink black hair and large dark almond shaped eyes was all Raj. Needless to say, I felt like a prepubescent boy next to her.
"How much I gotta beg ya to let me look under that hood? She is a beaut, babycakes!" Her bangles danced together in a series of clinks as her hand ran over the side of my car in admiration.
I would be flat out lying if I said that it didn't boost my ego. I'm extremely proud of my Firebird, complimenting my baby was an instant ego boost.
"Yea, yea, here ya go." I walked around to the side and reached into the driver's side to pop up the hood. Rajani wasted no time.
"Damn girl, you came back really workin' it. Ya brought this gorgeous chrome, and now ya became a little hottie pottatie, a body that can knock a guy ten paces back and get 'im comin' back for more," Raj's heavy Brooklyn accent was accompanied with a wink and a smirk.
I rolled my eyes, scoffing slightly. Rajani made me look like a prepubescent boy with her insanely gorgeous features. With a perfect hourglass figure, long ink black hair, and large dark almond shaped eyes, she exuded estrogen.
While Raj was going on about the car and some of her latest projects, my attention focused on the scene around me. The lack of clothes that these girls wore was just gross. I had barely any respect for the groupies here, hell I had far more respect for the Croweaters and Sweetbutts back at the clubhouse. These girls wanted nothing more than the fame and status of sleeping around with the men, and I saw nothing grand about that.
My lovely moment of reminiscing was interrupted by a voice that I seriously could have lived without hearing ever again. "Of all people to show their faces around here, you're the last I expected. Not that I mind, it ain't a bad face."
Think of the sleaziest, bottom of the barrel, egotistical person you know. Now multiply that by 35 and add slick hair, oiled up gym cut muscles and about a 2 million inheritance, and you have Victor Tarrington.
"Can't say the same for you," I answered coolly leaning against my car. There is not enough paper in the world to make a list of how much I loathe this human being. He had no honor, lived off his parents money, freeloaded all day, had a thing for underage girls (whether they liked it or not), and never worked for a damn thing in his life. He was a brat, and I'm pretty positive an entitled sociopath. He lived by his own set of rules and money allowed him to never suffer the consequences. Victor was a walking example of the decline of manhood.
The problem with steroid induced morons like him was that his massive ego was rarely moved by insults, especially when his groupies surrounded him. "Still got that spunk don't ya? I always liked my girls feisty. And since you and Ritter spilt, ya got an opening."
"Hate to be the one to break it to ya, Vicky, but I'm not your type. I'm legal now." Victor's smirk faltered as mine widened. When his groupies snickered, I knew he would be pissed.
He stepped right up to me, an instant spike of uneasiness pierced my chest from the look on his face. "You seem to forget that breaking it off with Ritter means more than a loss of a constant dick to bounce on." Victor's voice was low but by no means quiet. "You got no more protection here Anna, and that makes you pure bait around here."
From over Victor's shoulder, I saw Tig staring at us from the center of the crowd, ignoring the ebony haired beauty on his side as he focused entirely on me.
This was not going to end well. And the evening barely started.
"Tavington. Leave. Now." Well this is an unexpected turn. Instead of seeing Tig or hell, even Grayson, there stood Dante, icy blue green blazing in a way that used to make me weak in knees.
Victor looked as surprised as I did, but I at least was able to hide it better. "Fuck off Ritter. This ain't your business anymore."
"And it was never yours. Pin or not, I got way more weight around here than you. Leave before I start throwin' it." The cool clear voice that always held command and power made sure the words weren't lost on Victor. It didn't take him long to back off.
Glaring at me, he spit on the ground by me. "Your luck is gonna run out real soon, and then it will just be you and me sweetheart." Oh God, what a cheeseball, how do you not roll your eyes to that?
I watched him walk off with his posse, finding it almost comical. "Well he had a point about one thing, I'm not exactly your business anymore am I?" I prided myself on keeping a cool and steady voice, though my heart was being pulled in so many directions I waws on the verge sick.
"It's gonna take a lot more than you breaking it off with me for me to believe that." Same old Dante. "Can I get you a drink?"
My eyebrow shot up, as well as my nerves, but God bless Gemma for teaching me to keep my cool. "Really Dante? I thought we had our last words to each other what, six months ago?"
His handsome features creased in a softer look he used to only reserve for me. "Come on Anya, just ten minutes. Hell, you're enough of a romantic to know we deserve a better end than what we had." Damn how did I forget how handsome he was? Combine James Dean and Heath Ledger and add an eyebrow ring and several hundred dollars worth of tattoos and you got Dante. He had an edgy look that still retained the handsome elegance of old movie stars, which is what I fell for in the first place.
Oh man, I knew I'd regret this. "Ten minutes. And I'll take a Corona."
I saw Rajani giving me a major glare over the now closed hood of my car. I had to smile. "I'll be fine Raj, I'll be right back. Really." She probably was convinced I would be back with him the second I was alone with him. I didn't blame her for thinking that, but I couldn't do that to myself again.
Dante's hand moved to the small of my back, leading me away to the side of the crowd by the bar area. And of course I was treated to the lovely sight of Happy with some blonde chick all over him. Typical. Oh geez he was staring at me, and all I could do was silently pray nothing would start.
While Dante ordered drinks, I took a minute to compose myself. I was not even sure what I was preparing myself for to be honest. I had dreaded facing him again, forced to face that heartbreak he caused me when he stumbled in our apartment smelling like weed and pussy.
"Thank you," I said coolly when he handed me a full cold mug. I downed half of it in two gulps. I didn't start, I had no idea what to say to this guy, my first love who really wrecked my heart. I never wanted to see him again, yet here he was staring at me intently while he sipped his usual straight vodka on the rocks.
"You know, I almost forgot how damn beautiful you always were. Almost." He took a swig of his drink and set it on the counter. Despite the noise and the giant crowd, I felt unsafe. Probably more from myself then him.
"I never wanted to see you again, you know that right? I wasn't lying when I screamed that at you after throwing everything I could get my hands on at you." The beer swirled in my mug in gentle pattern.
Dante shrugged, taking his eyes off of me to stare out at the crowd. "Can't say I blamed ya. Still don't. I'll be honest though, I didn't think you'd be so quick to pack your shit and leave. You showed me though, shoulda known better than to put you in a neat box in my mind like that."
I didn't want to hear any of this. My stomach flipped so much I was starting to feel sick. My mug was feeling lighter by the second with all the drinks I took. I was not as ready for this as I thought. "Say what you have to say, cause I don't know how much more I can take being near you." Good, my voice never wavered once.
Dante fisted a hand through his thick, dark hair, a habit he had whenever he was nervous. "I fucked up. Big time. And I ain't asking for another chance, not expecting it anyways."
Well he had one thing right.
"There are some things you need to know though. That's kinda why I pulled ya here to begin with." He took a deep breath and looked at me intently. Damn those eyes. "I loved you more than I ever told ya, and I hate myself cause I had to lose you to realize it. But it had to happen, cause now I get it. Shit, I still think about what life would be like had I never got pissed off about petty shit, never started messing around. Well, I woulda been a hell of a lot happier than I am now." His words were drenched in sincerity laced with bitterness, as was the reflection in the pool of those damn icy eyes as he laughed slightly under his breath.
"Yea I know, you're wondering why I'm even telling you this. I know you Anna, and I know how that whole thing woulda gotten to your self esteem, even if hell would freeze over before ya let anyone know. You weren't the reason I cheated, me being a dumbass when we talked about our future was what caused it."
Oh crap, no. This was not what I wanted to hear, not again. I hadn't told Gemma about this, I tried to block it out myself, and here it comes rushing back. I found myself swallowing hard. "Dante, stop I don't want to-"
"Well I do. Look I freaked out cause the last thing I ever thought about was the idea that you did actually want to settle down and have a family. Like a dumbass I thought it was all that family shit that the club always talked about with you, and that's why you wanted it. It ain't though, and I get that now, and honestly I don't mind the idea of that now, but I handled it all like a punk ass." I didn't look at him, the hurt was still there from that whole episode that led to our bitter breakup.
Dante moved as if he was going to grab my hand, but seem to have thought better of it. "I just want you to know I'm sorry. I know I lost something really good, but you need to know that it ain't cause of you. You deserve that family you want, and hopefully with someone that ain't as much of a jackass as I was."
My mind was whirling, being that this had been the last thing I expected to hear. Dante had been my best friend, he knew me so intensely well and it was nice to know that the care we developed in the friendship we had within the relationship was still very much present.
As much as the guys and Gemma really didn't like him, he was a genuinely good person. I wouldn't have been with him for so long if he wasn't. And despite it all, we did have a solid friendship, and I remembered just how solid from his little speech.
And… well it would be a lie if I said that it didn't get to me a bit. I made to scratch my nose, subtly wiping a tear. "I did need to hear that. Thanks."
My heart was still racing like crazy, and I had one of those word vomit moments where you really really say things way without thinking or censorship. "I wasn't even asking for a family now though, or to get married or any of that. The only reason I asked you was because of that pregnancy scare, and I needed to know I could depend on you. Ha, guess I got my answer for that huh?"
Once I started I just couldn't stop either. "What really irks me is that instead of talking it out with me, no matter how hard I tried, you totally shut me out. You started coming home later, would spend all your time in the garage, and flat out acted like I didn't exist half the time. Do you know how much that hurt? You were my best friend before you were my boyfriend, and that was just plain shitty of you."
I took another sip, letting out a deep sigh. "It doesn't matter anymore though, it happened. I cried all I could about it. I think I was more mad about the fact that I wasted as many tears as I did. I don't have any ill will toward you, but I can't and won't give you the time you didn't give me those last few months. Cause you didn't just end our relationship, you threw away our friendship too. If it was fated for me to see you tonight to at least get that out of my system, then so be it.
Dante nodded, peering at me carefully. "Guess it wouldn't be smart to suggest we try for friends would it?"
"Not smart at all." I drained my mug.
"It's gonna suck for me, but I won't take anymore from you than I did. 'Sides, I have a feeling if I start hanging around, I'm gonna get some broken ribs and two black eyes." I glanced at him with a slight smirk, nodding my head. "A-Yup." At least that, if Tig decides to carry out his threat, and he's not one to bluff.
Dante tipped his head back to drain the vodka, the tattoo sleeve of Michelangelo's 'La Primavera' reflected against the combination of moonlight and florescent light. "Thanks for everything Anna, I mean that. You deserve the family you want, and someone who could give it to you," he said while throwing me a side smirk. "See you around the blacktop yea?"
A small smile was on my face, at the eye of my internal storm as I watched him walk off into the crowd. It felt a bit odd, like that cliché feeling of a chapter in my life closing. It was never smart to be friends with an ex, especially if you were together for a long time and had some serious feelings involved. It was always Dante's policy too. He was smooth and cocky, but very much in tune with reality in such a point blank case that it frustrated even me sometimes.
Did I feel better after all that? Kind of, but not really better. My guess was that it didn't really hit me yet. Dante brought up some really personal stuff, especially the argument we had when I asked him about where our relationship was headed. The fight that erupted from that was the worst we ever had, and I cried myself to sleep that night. Did I mention I hate crying? Well I do, and crying myself to sleep is always torture but especially about a topic that I did hold near and dear to my heart. I wasn't surprised that he came to that he felt like that, just surprised that he really didn't waste any time telling me. I did need to hear it, though I wasn't ready to fully digest all of it.
So much for a relaxing, carefree night on the blacktop.
Heaving a big sigh, I placed my glass on the counter and turned my head just in time to catch a pair of intensely dark watchful eyes from across the bar. I shivered from Happy's cutting stare, chastising myself as to why I let it have such an effect on me.
When he didn't look away, I broke the stare and got up to lose myself in the crowd.
Now I really needed to race, cause this was too much for me to handle at once.
IIIIIIIIIIII
One hour and several forced attempts or not thinking about Dante or Happy, it looked like I finally had a challenger. I was sitting on the trunk of Raj's car, in the process of challenging a cocky Rook for some easy cash. Flirting at it's charms, though it wasn't as successful with Tig right next to me. He came over to grill me about whether or not Dante stepped over the line, no doubt hearing a report from Hap, and that interrogation ended with him goading a hotshot Rook for a race with me.
"How are you, sitting here with you fancy car, gonna tell me you ain't up for racing a chick? Women are awful drivers, everyone knows that. And you're still scared? Shit, that just pathetic," Tig lit up a cigarette to hide the large smirk that made it's way across his face. He couldn't resist pushing buttons, and he sure as hell knew how to do it.
"Yo, shut the fuck up, she's a Top for a reason, I ain't stupid. You been causing shit with people all night, I ain't gonna be one of 'em." The kid, Rob I think was his name, was seriously getting frustrated.
Oh man, I really hope Tig didn't cause too much shit tonight.
"Hey if you can't take the heat, you're hangin' in the wrong place man. Right now, I'm just tryin' to understand why a guy is too much of a pussy to race a broad. Weren't you one of the shitheads that was talkin' up a storm of how you were gonna step up to one of the high riders? Well ou got a high rider, its a chick, and you got a way more powerful car than hers. I mean look at it, it's an old ass car. You lose your balls between the bar and here?" Okay I know that he was only trying to rile the kid up, but that bit about my car stung just a TINY bit.
I decided to step in then. "Come on Sugar, I just want the chance to say I raced a Nissan GTR. It's the newest model isn't it?" I knew just the right pitch and tone to use to make my voice as alluring as possible. Rob's eyes flicked at me with interest, looking at me up and down.
"How much are we talkin' here?"
I tapped my lip, pretending to think for a minute. "Well... I only have a grand with me... and I am an all or nothing kind of girl. What do you say Darlin'?"
Rob scoffed. "Make it 800 and we got a race."
Tig and I exchanged a glance. After he gave a small nod, I looked back at Rob with a smile. "Deal."
After we shook hands, Rob walked to his car and I let out a laugh. "I can't believe you just randomly pulled a kid aside and managed that. You're too much Tig."
He just smirked and swatted my butt. "Just go win us some money. I'll be taking bets in the crowd and making my own money. See how many more people I can hustle."
"Hey!" That was a hard swat, but I had to smile. This was what I was waiting for, and Tig made it happen. Who am I to argue how it came about?
Ah this was my place: engine roaring in my ears at an almost deafening level, the entire body shaking around me in a state of exstacy, ready to burst on the blacktop. We were at the starting line of the rounded airstrip, the one that took you in a full circle. The GTR next to me was quieter, but Rob was really showing off that engine. I wasn't worried, this was my church right here, just me, God and the blacktop.
I handed my money to the starter when he came up, feeling totally relaxed. I was melding with the car, letting myself become part of it. I had already lfted the front seat of the car to expose my NOS tank, and according to Raj I was all set.
My hand gripped the wheel with a firm gentleness, as the other held the gear stick. Rob kept making kissing faces at me, but I just smirked at him and kept my eyes as a scantly clad girl walked in impossibly high heels walked ahead in the area between the two cars. The race was one lap, but it was one hell of a fast and hard lap.
All I could say was: Bring it.
Her hands raised in the air, and both cars engines revved loudly. I watched in calm anticipation, and the second her arm went down my car shot forward.
Ah, this was my heaven, my ecstasy. My body moved so naturally with car, and my car seemed to meld to the curve of the strip. I went from 0 to 120 in less thatn 3 seconds, with increasing speed as I concentrated on the road in front of me. The GTR, brightly lit exhaust from the NOS shot in front of me before we were even at the curve of the strip.
"Too early Sugar." I turned the car in a tight circle to mak the spin and reached for the NOS. The second I pushed it, the speed went from 200mph to almost 300mph. My back arched pleasurably at the impact of the speed on the car as I surged past Rob and past the finish line, staying on the strip to stay in the speed and safely slow down.
"Oh yea, this is what it's about." The NOS rode out and I slowed my car to turn back to the finish line. It was easy money, but hey I wasn't looking to prove myself, I did that already. Now it was about racing for cash, and more than that racing for cash to help Abel. I would take whatever I could get.
When I got out of the car, I was met with a really smug Tig and a cheering crowd, that only got louder when I got handed $1600. "Told ya I got better," I winked at Tig, who only threw his head back laughing. "You sure did Dollface. I made a sweet load on bets. You got no idea how easy it was to convince people that your car was really messed up and you were definitely gonna lose. This place is great!"
Great, Tig's chosen a career path as a hustler in addition to the other stuff. "You have fun, I'm gonna refuel the car."
Leaving Tig alone right then was probably the stupidest thing I could have done. I guess I was still on too big of a high from going 300mph to be able to realize that after hustling God knew how many people, they wouldn't be really happy with him.
When I drove the car back from getting gas, a huge crowd formed, shouting jeers and insults so loud that the music couldn't even drown them out. A bad feel sunk in my stomach, and I mean a really bad feeling. I put the car in Park and got out to sit on the window ledge to try and see what was happening.
Oh shit, a bunch of guys jumped Tig, and Victor Tavington was among them.
"Shit! Shit Shit!" I jumped out the car and ran right into the crowd. It was a struggle to try and get through all the people, especially with such a packed crowd. "Move, MOVE!" I yelled squeezing past as many people as I could. A gunshot rang out and my blood ran cold. No, it couldn't be.
"Hold him still. I'mma teach this asshole what happens to punk ass hustlers around here!" That was Tavington's voice. I stood on my tip-toes trying to see through the crowd. I saw Victor lowering the gun to the ground, trying to find a place to focus it. "NO!" I pushed through the crowd with a renewed vigor.
A familiar hard raspy voice was like heaven to my ears right then. "Drop it. Now!" Happy. I got to the front of the crowd and let out a sigh of relief when I saw him with his gun pressed into Tavington's temple, looking more menacing than I am used to seeing him.
I looked at Tig on the ground, being restrained by several guys and struggling still to get out of their hold. Pussies, they couldn't even take him down like men.
"If I were ye mate, I'd be the one dropping the gun," Greyson had come up behind happy with the blade of his huge buck knife pressed tightly to the back of Happy's head. "That's one of mine that ye got a gun to, and I won't have you threatenin' 'em on my turf."
My hand crept to the side of my skirt, feeling the outline of the Beretta that I always kept on me, tucked into the hem. Gemma taught me how to conceal guns under my skirt when I was seventeen. As a woman, I needed to learn how to carry protection on me as discreet and undetected as possible. A Beretta was the perfect size, and it was a powerful little gun.
Look at Tig and then the knife pressed against Happy's throat, I didn't hesitate. "Let them go Greyson." I aimed the gun right at his head, ignoring the gasps and mutterings from the crowd.
"Anna? Are you outta your bloody mind? Do you know what yer doing right now?" Greyson was evidently shocked, and I didn't blame him.
"I know perfectly well what I'm doing. I'm defending my family. Your boys are sore losers that believe any information anyone feeds them, and that's their problem. Now drop the knife and tell your boys to back off." I cocked the gun. "Now."
Greyson hesitated for a moment before lowering his knife from Happy's neck. "You stupid bitch. Boys, step off. Go on!" The guys let go of Tig immediately, who scrambled to his feet right away, and Tavington lowered his gun. Happy kept his gun up though, but I put mine down.
I just signed my own exile.
Greyson stared at me with anger and sadness. I knew he had a soft spot for me, but there had to be consequences for threatening a Pin in front of the whole Fresno racing scene. "I'm puttin' the word out in the circuit what you did tonight. Consider yourself in exile. You ain't welcome in this circuit, or any other racing circuit on the West Coast. We catch you racing for money and the only thing that your gonna be racing is bullets. You understand that?"
"Yes." My voice was steady but it felt like someone just tore an organ from my body.
"Get outta here." Greyson turned and disappeared into the crowd, a mix of shocked and smug faces. Tavington spat at my feet, and I heard Happy cock his gun.
I swallowed hard and shut my eyes for a brief moment, composing myself before I started walking to my car. I felt bile rise to my throat, but I kept it down. The guys got in the car with me without a word.
Right Now, I just needed to get outta there and get out now.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
"You okay Dollface?" Tig's voice was the first to break the twenty minute ride of silence.
I made myself focus on the road. "I'll be fine. They had no right treating you as they did. Sore losers." I hoped it was enough not to steer the conversation to me losing everything I worked for in the racing world. I needed to think.
"Heh yea they were. I made a good amount from them though. Hey Hap, look at this stash..." Tig and Happy started talking to each other, giving me the time I needed to think.
My reputation, my status, everything I had worked my ass off to earn since I was sixteen was gone. I knew it would happen the second I pulled my gun, and I didn't regret it at all.
It was a strange feeling that settled over me, and I wasn't sure what it meant. It felt... right. Painful realization, but it was right. I knew I made the right choice, and by doing so I severed a huge chunk of my life, of my identity even.
What did I have left without the status of the racing circuit? I wasn't anyone special anymore, or at least I didn't feel it. Oh God, I'm turning this into a pity party.
You know what? I deserved one. First having to deal with Dante, and MAN did that hurt, and now this? I honestly didn't know what hurt worse. Dante brought some heavy topics into that conversation, including one that cut right through my heart. I wanted so badly to have a life with him, start a family and raise them to be as loving as the family I had, and he threw that in my face. Tonight he reminded me of that.
It was just too damn much.
I sharply pulled into a gas station that was located right in the middle of the highway. "Gimme a minute," I said hurriedly, not giving them a chance to respond as I jumped out of the car and ran inside the little gas station store.
"Excuse sir? May I use your bathroom?" The attendant looked at me with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry our bathrooms are out of order right now."
Crap. "Look sir I just need to wash my face. Is there anything I can do?" I was desperate for some alone time, and I honestly felt like any minute I was going to throw up.
"Oh well there is a water spigot out in back. It doesn't have a hose attached, but it has decent water pressure."
I was practically out the door in a second, shouting a thank you as I ran to the back of the store. Before I even got to the spigot, I ran right for the garbage can and emptied out the contents of my stomach. I was so stressed that it just become too much for me and it had a physical effect.
I must have heaved everything I ate that day, cause about five minutes have passed until I was done. Feeling weak, I practically threw myself next to the spigot, desperately turning the knob to start the water. Ice cold water spouted out, and I put my whole face under running water. It shocked my body out of that stupor as I washed my face and rinsed out my mouth. I used my hands to rub the rest of my makeup off, splashing my face until my fingers were numb from the water.
The water continued to run as I scooted to lean against the wall, the front of my hair clinging to my wet face as the cool night breeze brushed against it. Deep, long breaths was all I was concentrating on at the moment.
I couldn't tell you for how long I sat there, eyes shut and just taking deep breaths. After some time, I felt someone sit next to me, though not close to me. The familiar scent of tobacco, bourbon, and aftershave that hit me soon after instantly told me who it was without opening my eyes.
And for the love of everything, I had no idea what compelled me to talk, but talk I did. "Since I was sixteen I had been building myself up in that circuit. I did it all by myself, with no outside help. I gave sweat, blood, and heart into the racing world, and now all ties I had with it are severed," I started quietly. "And you know what? It feels right. It feels like something painfully right just happened, and I don't know how that's possible. But as odd as it is, I don't mind. I have no regrets. Is that strange? No don't answer that, it probably is."
I didn't say anything for a moment, pausing to take a breath. "I don't regret anything."
Neither me, nor Happy said anything. I just looked straight ahead as I watched him light a cigarette next to me, exhaling a large cloud of smoke. I was betting that Tig sent him here, cause there was no way he'd come looking for me willingly. At least we were being sort of civil to one another. And by civil I mean not at each other's throats. Right now I felt strangely... relaxed around Happy.
"You did good tonight kid," he said in his low raspy voice. Despite myself, I felt a small smile come on my face. I kept my mouth shut though.
I watched him get up and lean over to turn off the water spigot. "Tig's ready to go. We should head out."
"Okay." I didn't move to get up, but stared up at Happy intently. "Happy? I'm really sorry I ran over your bike."
He didn't say anything for a moment, just stared back at me, the moonlight in back of him made his silhouette look more menacing than ever, but I wasn't afraid.
"I know." Those two little words he said surprised and oddly delighted me all at once. Wait delighted? What is going on with me?
"Come on. You okay to drive?" He reached down and grabbed my arm to haul me to my feet, with more gentleness than I was expecting. Why is my arm tingling?"
I smiled and started walking toward the car. "You know what? I think I am."
Author's Note: Okay, I know you all expected a chapter sooner, and if I want to be completely honest I'll say that it was part revision and part annoyance that kept me from posting it sooner. There are some things that I need to make clear, based on some messages and reviews. We'll do it in bullet points so it's nice and organized and hopefully no one will be confused.
-First and foremost, I hate perfect characters the way that I hate seemingly perfect people. Anna is not perfect, in fact far from it. Yes, she's going to behave rashly, as what happens when you have that pesky temper, and she's going to mess up. Big time. She's going to say and do the wrong thing, and she will grow from her mistakes just as anyone does. If you are looking for a story with a main character that is young and already knows exactly how to act and what to do and what not to do, and looks and acts just as she should, then this isn't the story for you. I want a character rich with personality, where her imperfections are polished throughout the stories just as the rest of the characters grow. I want a character that will mess up, that will make life a little harder and easier at the same time for the Sons. So yes, I know she's acting too whatever at times and not acting enough whatever. That's what I like to call human like qualities. If this is a problem for you, than I'm sure there are other stories that will cater to your tastes, but this won't be one of them.
- Next point, I will not be rewriting this story. I have no reason to, and I happen to like the direction in which it is going and am a huge fan of the third season of Sons of Anarchy. If this does not meet your tastes, I apologize, but there is nothing I can do about that. I plan to continue this story to through the fourth season as well, but we are not quite there yet. I invite you to wait till then, but please no more messages about how the fourth season was so much better than the third. The fourth season was FANTASTIC, but it couldn't have happened without the third, and that's how I plan to write it through.
-Final point: I don't claim to be part of some huge biker gang or anything close. My guy is in a motorcycle club that I have no plans to disclose the name of, and I am going by the rules of the club that I am familiar with. I don't mind sharing tidbits of my personal life, especially when they are funny, but I have nothing to prove to anyone and there is no reason for me to disclose any private information just to prove to you I am not lying. You don't have to believe me, I promise you I won't be crying a river about it if you don't.
Now that all that stuff has been said, thank you so much for all your reviews and for sticking with the story. I have no intention of abandoning it and every intention of seeing it through however many seasons Kurt Sutter plans to hit us with. I promise I will start responding to reviews again by the next chapter.
Thanks everyone so much for reading, and be on the lookout for the next chapter, I'm already halfway through! Let me know what you thought of this one, I revised it like five times!
-Daria