I do not own any characters from Sons of Anarchy. I own Sara and any other original characters.
October 2007
"Great." Sara murmured in annoyance as she saw Happy leaning against his bike smoking as they pulled into the driveway. Gemma ignored the younger woman's darkened attitude and climbed out of the car.
"How you doin', sweetheart?" She asked. Hap shrugged.
"Pretty good. Just finished some business with Clay, heading out in a few." He answered in his typical short gruff attitude.
"Can you help Sara bring in the groceries before you head out?" Gemma asked sweetly as she carried in a few bags, leaving the two alone in the driveway. Sara eyed him for a moment before grabbing and few bags and going inside in silence. She set them on the counter and headed back out to the car, passing Hap on the way.
She was lifting a few more bags from the trunk when she heard his bootsteps approach.
"Let's hurry it up." He rasped impatiently.
"Oh sorry, am I holding up all your important business meetings?" She sassed.
"Why? You gonna go run and tell daddy all about it?"
"What is your problem with me?" She asked, finally done with his digs. She dropped the bags on the driveway and put her hands on her hips in annoyance.
"I think you are a spoiled brat that needs to go back to her little rat family before you ruin another charter." He snapped, crossing his arms. She recoiled at his response.
"You think I had anything to do with my father's leaving?"
"Fuck if I know. That's the whole goddamn point."
"Well before you go making assumptions you should get your facts straight. I was left behind. I didn't know anything about what he was planning. We weren't exactly close." She spat sourly. "He didn't know what to do with me when my mother left so he groomed me to maintain the San Bernadino legacy." Happy's brows rose in surprise at her acidic tone when talking about her father. She had always aced the doting, obedient daughter and this side of her shook his opinion of her.
"I run a fucking brothel for the club; I guess a bunch of bikers don't have the finesse to keep the girls happy and the clients from running scared. I make sure that the cops stay off our trail. You think if I was in on my dad's plan that the brothel would still be standing?" She argued and Happy glowered. He didn't have a response to that.
"Next time you want to be a dick to me for the shit my father did, think about the fact that my whole family got arrested—that my fiancé got arrested— and then remind yourself that I didn't do that. He did. And then you can go fuck yourself."
She grabbed the last of the groceries, spun on her heel, and went back into Clay's house slamming the door behind her. Happy stood in the driveway for a moment longer before scoffing and putting his helmet on. He started his bike and took off, still reeling from the tongue lashing Sara had given him. She had been right. She wasn't at fault; she was just an easy target.
Sara stalked through the house and back into the kitchen to help put away the groceries.
"Where's Hap?" Clay asked in confusion.
"He left." She answered shortly and didn't meet the president's eyes.
"You need to leave that one alone." Clay chastised and she bit back a scoff. Gemma closed the fridge to watch the interaction.
"With all due respect, Clay. He's the one that hasn't been leaving me alone. He has been antagonizing me at every turn over shit that wasn't my fault. I'm sick of it, and I told him as much." She answered turning the face the older man. Clay eyed her for a second before nodding and leaving the kitchen. Sara swallowed loudly, immediately regretting mouthing off to the president of the MC and the man that was nice enough to let her stay in his house.
"He'll be fine." Gemma assured conspiratorially. "Just not used to having a woman other than me stand up to him."
"I'm sorry Gemma; that was so rude. I'm just so… so... fucking pissed at the whole situation. It's not fair." Sara continued with putting the groceries away and swallowed back tears pricking her eyes.
"Life ain't fair, sweetheart. We just gotta do the best we can with what we have. This shit with Hap will blow over, he just don't know what to do with his misplaced rage. But my guess is that it would help if one of you would just bury the hatchet, and I doubt that will be him any time soon. " Gemma responded pointedly.
"But I didn't even do anything." Sara whined in frustration.
"Don't matter. These outlaw men refuse to be the one to admit they were wrong. Sometimes it's just easier to be the one to let bygones be bygones and hope that he will follow suit." Sara hummed in response. "A peace offering of food doesn't hurt either." Gemma added with a knowing smile, and Sara couldn't help the corners of her mouth pulling into a small smile.
His tattooed arm slid over her waist leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake to pull her flush to his bare chest. She moaned at the contact letting her hand fall behind to grip his solid muscular thigh and in the process opening up her body to him. She could feel his bare, delicious hardness hot and pressing into the cleft of her ass. Wantonly she rolled her body against his, desperate for friction. His other arm snaked beneath her ribs to wrap up and cup one of her breasts, his fingers flicking at the hardened tips. She bit her lip as his mouth sucked on her pulse point making her skin tingle and her pussy throb. Impatiently, she slipped a hand between them to pull at his length before lifting a leg and positioning him at her entrance.
Sara gasped loudly and shot up in bed, panting from her exceptionally erotic dream.
"Holy fuck." Her sports bra was drenched with sweat and she had no doubt that her panties were completely soaked. She heart raced and she realized she was still shaking with desire. Worst of all, she knew exactly who she had been dreaming about.
"Hey Sam, what's up…. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down…" She chewed her lip and scanned the lot as she listened to the man on the other end explain the situation. "NO! I swear to god, Samuel—YES, I am using your full name because you are acting like a child—Do not touch those books! I have a system for everything—No! Do not start putting things off the books; that's how you get shut down for prostitution, Sam!" She hissed in agitation as her eyes met with a dark pair from the garage. She blushed slightly, remembering her dream from the night before.
He watched her pace, clearly frustrated with the person on the other end of the line.
"Stop-STOP IT! Stop and listen! I literally left everything in perfect shape and if you idiots get in there and start screwing around with my system then we will inevitably get raided because you guys are assholes…. I don't even care what he thinks, I run the business… well then have Caroline take a look at it then… I don't care, Sam… Fine. Tell my brother he can call me himself if he won't listen to you. Yeah, whatever. Bye." She ended the call before fishing around in her purse for her cigarettes. She groaned in annoyance as she pulled them out and continued to dig around for a lighter.
"Where the fuck are you, you little shit." She mumbled to herself, her hand flailing about in her bag as Happy approached casually.
"Need a light?" He asked gruffly. With a sigh, she nodded and he held up a flame.
"What was that all about?" He prodded as she took a drag and he lit one of his own.
"Work." She snapped. He rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, bitch." He turned to walk away but her hand stopped him. Her fingers flexed into the firm muscle of his forearm before releasing quickly.
"Sorry. That was rude." She stammered and cleared her throat. "The guys are just being idiots about everything and constantly making everything harder than it needs to be. It's like the goddamn blind leading the blind right now." She admitted kicking a rock. "Anyway, there were some questions about record keeping with the brothel and I just know that if they touch anything it will end in a raid. I have everything arranged very carefully to keep us within regulation and knowing them, they're probably going to fuck it up while I'm up here."
He nodded once in understanding as the information sunk in.
"Thought you were into rehab or whatever." He asked, remembering her relation to Kozik. She scoffed and nodded, her face dropping slightly. He watched her closely as she mulled over the answer.
"Doesn't matter. Gotta run the family business." She finally responded. She added an eyeroll and a flick of ash for effect but he saw through it and was struck by how genuinely unhappy she really was.
He nodded unsure how to respond. She had made it apparent on multiple occasions that she didn't want to be in the whoring business. Either way, she was apparently quite good at her job. His eyes grazed her face and for the first time since she had shown up in the clubhouse, he really took note of her features. She was beautiful, he already knew that, but she had a smattering of freckles across her nose that made her seem innocent. He was reminded of how smart she was in her interactions with people but she was never condescending despite talking to a bunch of gruff mechanics—most of which had barely graduated highschool.
After a moment he stepped on his cigarette and excused himself back to the garage. He spent the rest of his shift trying not to feel guilty for the way he had been treating her lately.
Author Note: Hmmm. What do you think? Let me know in a review! Thank you.