A/N: I'll keep it short, loves. I'm pretty excited about this JuiceFic. Just a note that I never leave stories incomplete, so you can follow this with confidence. I'd love to hear from you while we're on this ride. Okay, I'll hush now. Read, review, enjoy! kjx
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Chapter 1: Welcome to The Circus
The sun was setting fast in Charming. The first days of fall offered only slightly cooler temperatures at night and earlier darkness but not much else. Raniyah sat in a borrowed truck in the parking lot of Teller-Morrow trying to calm her nerves and failing. If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was ten seconds out from having a full-on panic attack. Watching the activity buzzing around the clubhouse was killing her confidence with every passing minute. It felt like there were people crawling all over the place and more pulling in every few minutes. The line of motorcycles was particularly alarming. There's so many, she thought. Just then, two girls teetered by the truck in shoes with heels so high and thin they looked like they couldn't possibly be holding them up. Their dresses so minuscule that they didn't actually cover their entire bottoms.
Nope! No.
Raniyah put her hand back on the keys still in the ignition, ready to start the truck and get out of there. She stared in the direction of the side door that people kept disappearing into, bouncing back and forth between her fears and her purpose for being there in her mind, trying to convince herself to stay. Don't punk out now! Just get out and go inside. If he's not there, just leave a message and come back tomorrow. Raniyah watched open-mouthed as another girl stumbled by with a tank top that only covered the bottom quarter of her push-up bra and a pair of cut-off shorts whose amount of fabric could only qualify them as panties. This can't be for real. These have to be real prostitutes. She opened the glove box to stash her purse. I know ma, she thought. Never move in this world without cash. Pulling her purse back out, she pulled out a twenty and shoved it into her pocket, putting her purse back, and climbing out of the truck.
This is it? She blinked, frowning from the sudden overhead light when she stepped inside the wide corridor. The smell of smoke, cigarette and otherwise, blasted her in the face. Raniyah fought to keep her face blank. Jesus, do they ever open the windows in this place? The man sitting by the next set of doors set his eyes on her, looking her over a few times as she approached. His expression made her even more aware that her jeans although snug and her white Basecamp merch tank top, though stretched tight across her chest, were still not in sync with the scraps of fabric on the women she had just seen walk in. Crushing his cigarette on the bottom of his boot, he stood up. Whoa. He was a big one and the plumpness of his face kept her from being able to guess his age. The large tattoo on his neck was playing peek-a-boo through the chaos of his facial hair but his eyes had lost their menace when he spoke.
"You look lost, baby girl."
His voice was unexpected, oddly smooth, helping Raniyah relax just a little. "I'm looking for somebody."
He stared at her for a moment too long, making her even more self-conscious about the way she was dressed. Opening the door, he nodded, "Lucky man…go on in."
Raniyah stepped wide around him, wishing she had worn a jacket long enough to cover her backside. But once she stepped inside the hive of activity, the warmth created by all the bodies inside made her wish she had left her jacket in the truck. Walking into the SAMCRO clubhouse was an Alice in Wonderland moment. There was rock music blaring from crudely hung speakers and she did not know where to look first. She took in the mug shots on the wall, a stripper pole with not one but three women dancing on the tiny stage. Clusters of vested men being crowded by more half-dressed and not dressed women were sprawled on couches, chairs and…oh my god. There was a couple up against the wall, skirt up and pants down - handling their business as if there weren't a hundred eyes in the room with them. She had been to a lot of hole-in-the-wall nightclubs and seen a lot of crazy things in VIP lounges, but this was party mode overdosing on crack cocaine and shots of Patron.
Move your feet! Before nerves took her knees out completely, she headed for the tiny bar almost hidden from view by its location and the milling bodies. She figured bartenders were the safest bet and they usually knew everybody. Growing up walking the streets of Queens educated her early in how not to draw too much attention to herself and most importantly that looking scared could get you into a lot of trouble. Breathe. Not too fast. Breathe. Smile. A couple of women that passed her by, stared her down, lightly shoulder-checking her. Ooookay. A vested man with wild black curls and intense eyes just past the pool table was eyeballing the hell out of her over the top of the blonde's head he had in his lap.
Please, Jesus, don't let him get up.
0.o.0.o.0
"What have we got here," Tig commented, perking up and adjusting the belt at his waist. His eyes were glued to an unfamiliar woman crossing the room wearing more clothes than the four crow eaters at their table put together.
Chibs' glance over was quick, "Aye, who let tha' lil' lamb inta tha slaughterhouse?"
Juice smiled turning to follow Tig's line of vision and did a double take. No way. He'd know her face anywhere and it sure as hell wasn't supposed to be in Charming. Juice stared until he saw Half-Sack point in his direction. As soon as she began to turn her head toward them he turned away, physically shrinking down into his chair.
Raniyah could feel those same intense eyes still watching her, sitting right next to the face that had turned toward her just long enough for her to recognize. Thanking the baby-faced prospect behind the bar, she cut through the scattered tables, feeling new stares at every step.
"Mmmm," Tig smiled, not caring that the blonde on his lap had stood up and huffed off. "And Mamacita is coming for me,"
What the fuck? What the FUCK!? Juice unceremoniously pushed his choice of sweet butt for the night off of his lap, his glare warning her against anything she wanted to say. He dropped his head, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt on, then straightened up in his seat trying to prepare himself, his leg bouncing like crazy under the table. Chibs noticed his reaction, eyes questioning but Juice ignored his silent communication, his heart racing.
"Hello, there sweetheart," Tig grinned.
"Gentlemen," Raniyah smiled, letting her dimples win over the table. Juice leaned back in his chair, trying to look casual and failing miserably. "How are you tonight?"
"I'd say much better now, baby." Tig licked his lips, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes roaming over her. "Why don't you tell us your name, sweetheart."
Raniyah's stomach flipped at the look he was giving her. Looking down at Juice, she spoke directly to him. "Hey, Jay."
Chibs and Tig shared a look of surprise. Juice avoided looking at either of them, swallowing twice before he trusted his voice. "What are you doing here?"
Not knowing how to take his cool demeanor, she gave a little laugh to hide her discomfort, adjusting her jacket. "I would say looking for you, but it looks like I found you."
Chibs snorted, holding his glass up to his lips, "Ya gonna introduce us ta yer lovely friend here, Juicy-boy?"
Juice stood up quickly, his eyes never quite focusing on her face. With a barely-there nudge on her elbow, he guided her away from the table, "Let's walk."
Watching them turn to leave, Tig called, "Aw c'mon brother! Don't take her away!"
"Where ya goin'ta?" Chibs joined in on top of Tig's pleas, "Come back, Juicy! We'll behave!"
"I just wanna know her name!" Tig pleaded to their disappearing backs.
Juice sped up his pace, leaving their laughter behind. Dipping around and through the milling bodies like an
NFL-worthy receiver, his shoulders hunched up so close to his ears you'd think a winter wind was blowing past him. Gemma watched him and the pretty, golden-skinned girl hustle by, their body language read conflict - but what kind? With her arms loosely wrapped around Clay's neck, she wondered what mess the club's biggest baby had gotten himself into. Clay's eyes had caught them, too. With a glance at Gemma, he noted her curiosity but didn't say a word.
Juice didn't look back to check if she was keeping up or to speak. But he did hold the door open for her to pass through first, his head slightly turned to avoid meeting her eyes. The man at the door gave her and Juice a nod and a wink, "It's your night, eh Juice?"
Juice?
Once outside, he walked far enough away from the building that her already shaky nerves began to turn into nausea. When she slowed to a stop, he didn't even notice. The confidence she had in her decision to come there was shrinking more by the second.
"Jay? What's going on?" Juice stopped and turned around, his face giving her nothing. Raniyah took a few tentative steps forward, "Are you mad at me?"
She cringed at how her nervousness raised her voice up to a higher pitch. It took all the balls she had to show up here like this and less than 10 minutes in she sounded like a child. Raniyah was so disappointed in herself, she had all the directions their conversations could go in mapped out in her head. She had a list of all the questions she wanted to ask but the best she could do now that they were face to face was 'Are you mad at me?' Great. Genius.
Jay….nobody called him that but her and hearing it now was messing with his head. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Juice wanted to disappear. He wasn't prepared to see her, he never thought he would have to. He felt cornered, shooting his already high anxiety through the roof. He didn't want to remember. He turned away from her again taking a few steps more into the yard. He could hear the crunch of her footsteps on the gravel following him. The yard lights worked in his favor, standing with his back to them created too many shadows from his hoodie for her to read his face.
Fighting to keep his voice neutral, he asked point blank. "How did you find me?"
Raniyah pressed her lips into a hard line to keep it together. Wow. This is how we're going to start? She forced the ends of her mouth up into something close to a smile. "Like it was hard."
Juice continued to find everywhere to look but at her, trying to find something else to say. She rolled her eyes, "You were arrested last year. It's public record."
Juice nodded. Duh, idiot. It's not like you changed your name. All his arrests were lurking online somewhere, along with plenty of information about the club's whereabouts. "Oh." Juice felt like a fool for asking such an obvious question, his ears going hot. Get it together, man!
An embarrassed look crossed his face and for a second she could see the Juan Carlos she knew, but that familiarity stung. Raniyah was feeling deeply discouraged by his lack of enthusiasm in seeing her but she pushed forward. "Jesus, Jay," she fussed, with a mock frown intended to lighten the mood. "I ain't seen you in seven years. Can I get a hug or somethin'?"
Maybe it was something in her voice that made him comply with her simple request. Maybe it was because the breeze was blowing the sweet scent of her across his nose in random tiny waves. Whatever it was, against everything in him telling him not to do it, Juice stepped closer.
Her 5'6" put her head right on his shoulder as she wrapped her arms tentatively around his waist. He knew without looking at them that his hands were shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his body. It had been so long since they were together, yet in an instant everything about being near her was familiar and his fidgety brain was no longer calling the shots.
In that season of his life, Raniyah Annaliese Carson had been love personified. The most consistent, pure, supportive, stable thing he had for five years. His partner in crime, his buffer from the world, his study buddy and his best friend. How was she standing here now, hugging him like they had been hanging out just yesterday instead of seven years ago? How was it that within mere minutes of her arrival she was resetting a section of his brain that lay dormant…no, locked away for years? He leaned into her automatically, closing his eyes and giving in to the pull. Somehow, she still felt like the safest place in the world. When her hug blossomed from a loose circle around his waist to a tight squeeze, the slow sweeps her hands made on his back felt like a welcome home. Involuntarily, his arms tightened around her and he dropped his head down onto her shoulder. He didn't want all of the terrible memories that came from those years, but it was all the good memories that she was attached to that made him unable to pull himself out of her arms.
A car pulled into the lot, their headlights shining on them for a moment, whipping him with the force of a slingshot back to the present. His eyes flew open and he was home again, in his new home. California. Charming. The parking lot of Teller Morrow. Releasing her he stepped away, again truly grateful for the lack of lights in the yard that helped camouflage the whirl of emotion on his face. If it was midday, if he had to clearly see her face, he'd be lost.
They stood inches apart, each feeling their guard going down. "What are you doing here, Ronnie?"
This time his tone was different and Raniyah's heart skipped a beat hearing him call her by the nickname he'd given her twelve long years ago.
"Aye! Juice!" The call came from a figure at the door accompanied by a piercing whistle. Juice dragged his eyes away from Ronnie in its direction. Chibs yelled out to him, "Church!"
Okay, they seriously call you Juice? Ronnie raised her eyebrows surprised, "Church?"
"It's not…um," Juice started to walk backward toward the building, frowning both at the interruption and that he didn't have time to explain. "I have to go in…uh, I'll find you as soon as I'm done. It won't be long. Tell Half-Sack I've got your drinks."
Half-Sack? Ronnie nodded yes but she knew she wasn't going back in there. She watched him jog up to the building without so much as a glance back at her. She was still watching when he opened the door and disappeared inside. Anyone else would have been disappointed, but she let out a giggle of joy before getting into her truck. She had actually found him, that was going to have to be good enough for tonight.