Once I finally remember that I needed oxygen to live, I tried to slow my breathing down so that I wasn't hyperventilating. Hopefully if I could do that, I would be able to slow my heartrate down too because I seriously felt like I was going to have a heart attack.

While I balanced myself on the bike, the wall of guns opened up and a tall, authoritative looking black man stepped through the opening. If I was so afraid that I was about to shit myself, I would say that he was handsome. And he looked really sharp in his charcoal grey suit. But as it was, all I could see was a black version of my dad walking towards me, silently promising me a certain death if I didn't do what he wanted.

"That was some pretty skillful driving, young lady," he started in an almost conversational tone. "But it would probably be best if you got off that motorcycle now."

"I'm sorry… Sir… I can't do that," I replied in a calm tone that I didn't imagine would be possible right now.

"You can't? And why would that be?"

"For a couple of reason. Number one, my employer wouldn't be happy with me if I lost any of his merchandise."

"That sounds reasonable, depending on who your employer might be. And the second reason?"

Sitting on a bike that wasn't moving wasn't the most comfortable thing to do… well unless you were a giant. I knocked out the kickstand and eased myself off the back of the bike. But I made sure to lean against it to maintain a possessive air. Being on solid ground really helped me to center myself and I was able to find some of my inner strength.

"The second? This is my bike… Technically. I've done all of the work on it, down to the paint job, so I'm not going to part with it easily."

He made a point to turn his eyes to the Sons of Anarchy logo on the side of the gas tank as he asked, "You painted that?"

"Yes, Sir. I did it by hand."

If I didn't know any better, I would say that he looked impressed. Surprised, but definitely a little impressed. "And Miss…"

"Ms. Lowman," I corrected with as much false bravado I could muster.

"My apologies. Ms. Lowman, who, pray tell, is your employer?"

I had to force myself to take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down when I felt one of his goons take a step closer to me and press the muzzle of his gun into the back of skull. My lip started to tremble, so I bit it until it stopped. The only problem with doing that was that I had to bit it so hard that it made my lip bleed. Oh… and now my eyes were leaking some clear liquid now too.

Great. Just great.

"Ms. Lowman?" Tall, dark, deadly and handsome asked.

"TM!" I nearly shouted in a panic. "I work at Teller-Morrow Automotive in Charming."

There were a few chuckles, but the man in front of me just looked pensive. I swallowed hard while I waited for his next move or question. To my surprise, he pulled out a cell phone, dialed a number and sort of started to ignore me.

"Hello. I have a young lady here who has been riding through our streets on a bike sporting your club's logo. I just wanted to make sure that none of your members were missing a bike."

"A girl riding one of our bikes? No… oh shit. SHIT. Is she a pretty brunette with two braids trailing to the middle of her back?"

I squirmed slightly under his assessing gaze. "Yes, that would be a… fairly good description of her. She says that her name is 'Lowman'."

I hadn't been able to hear any of Jax's side of the conversation until he started to laugh. "Yeah, she's one of our mechanics."

"She is?" His eyes widened slightly, and he really did look impressed. "Well then I'm truly sorry for what we put her through. So? What should we do next?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but the question wasn't for me. The asshole actually turned his back on me while he continued his conversation with Jax. I tried to take a step forward in an attempt to eavesdrop, but I froze when I felt a gun's muzzle dig deeper into my flash while another man stepped in front of me to act as a human wall.

After what felt like an eternity, the human wall moved, and I was once again staring up at Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. "Alright, Ms. Lowman…" He wrapped my hand through his bent elbow onto his forearm. "If you would…?"

"My bike!" I cried out ass I jerked back and tried to get away to check on it.

One of his hands clamped down onto mine with a bruising force as he calmly explained, "A tow truck is on its way. Don't worry, Jax was adamant that the motorcycle not be left behind to scavengers."

"Just the bike?" I asked as new tears sprang into my eyes.

"No, Ms. Lowman. He was also very clear that you were not to be harmed either. Which is why you are going to accompany me." He took a step forward, but I planted my feet to cement myself in my spot.

He glared a question at me to which I replied, "My Daddy always told me not to ride with strangers. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"How rude of me. My name is August Marks."

My heart started racing again as I stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. "Y-y-you're… Oh my God… Oh… oh…"

That's when I completely forgot how to breathe and everything went black.

When I came to, I was no longer in the alley. Instead, I was on a couch in some sort of office. The best I could tell, the office was in some sort of a storage container. The last time I saw one it was on a construction site. My cheeks heated up at the memory of how I had gotten a good long look at the inside of the last storage container office I had been in. Not to mention all of the different angles that helped me…

Shit! I gasped in a painful breath as I sat up and tried to get my bearings. Shit. What is he…? JAX! He called Jax, so the club knows where I am. Okay… Take a…

The door opened and a huge black man stopped inside. I shrunk back against the couch to try to make myself as small as possible. He looked like he could be a bouncer, but the well-tailored suit threw that image off a bit. But don't get me wrong, he was an enforcer, there was no doubt about that.

Next through the door was a small black man (well smaller than Andre the Giant in the corner). He too was in a dark, perfectly fitting, three-piece suit. I swear these were the best dressed gangsters I had ever seen. He was carrying a blue and white cooler. My eyes became laser focused on the cooler, so I didn't notice when my new best friend stepped inside.

"Ms. Lowman?"

"I-if y-y-you're g-g-going to k-ki-kill me, c-c-can I ask a… a… a favor?" I sobbed out with my eyes still staring steadfastly at the cooler.

Marks patted his associate on the arm and silently asked him to move back. Once he had the room to maneuver, Marks squatted down in front of me so that my field of vision was filled with nothing but him and his face.

There was no slowing my tears, so I didn't even try while I continued, "Please, can I call my dad? I just want to apologize to him. He doesn't deserve this. I can't die with him thinking I'm still angry with him. Please?"

Marks reached into his blazer and pulled out a handkerchief. Who the hell still carried handkerchiefs?

Once I started dabbing the moisture on my cheeks, he snapped his fingers and reached out behind him. After I blew my nose, I opened my eyes to see him opening a bottle of water. He very gently removed the handkerchief from my tight grasp and pressed the bottle of the water into my palm.

"Ms. Lowman…"

"Mia," I interrupted quietly. I finally raised my eyes to look him in the eye. "You being so police and formal is kind of freaking me out."

"I'm sorry, Ms.… Mia," he corrected himself with a dimpled smile. "That wasn't my intention. Please, have a drink of water and hydrate yourself. I would really hate for a repeat of what happened in the alley." He then produced an ice pack and pressed it to my left eyebrow. "You fainting surprised me and I wasn't able to catch you. I'm sorry."

I took over holding the pack to my face with a chuckle. "It's fine. My face was already messed up by… well… it doesn't matter. But this…? The water…?"

"I'm not planning on killing you." He stood up and moved to sit beside me on the couch. I watched him out the corner of my eyes as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "But I think you should call your dad and make that apology anyway."

"I'll… uhh…" I picked at the label on the water bottle saying, "If I ever get back to Charming, I'll make sure to do it in person."

I heard him let out a heavy sigh before he stood up and walked over to his associates. He talked quietly to them and took the cooler from Tiny. Tiny then turned and left with Gigantor following close behind.

Once we were alone, Marks pulled out a chair and sat down facing me. "Mr. Teller is on his way down here right now. If he confirms you are who you say you are, you'll be home and able to make that apology within the hour." I'm not sure what look I had on my face, but it made him laugh. "Jax wasn't aware of your talents on a bike. He wants to make sure this isn't a case of mistaken identity before I set you free. May I ask why you are in Oakland today?"

"I… I have… SHIT! I guess it's HAD a meeting scheduled with an old family friend about a new business venture."

"Business venture? Are you and the Sons planning on moving into Oakland?"

"What?" When I saw the angry glint in his eye, I quickly added, "No! No, Sir! Leo's shop just happens to be here."

"Leo?"

"Leonardo… of Leonardo's Renaissance Repairs. He's looking to retire soon, so I was hoping to pick his brain and make an offer on his equipment if he can't sell the business."

Now he went back to looking intrigued and impressed again. "What would this new business venture be for the Sons of Anarchy?"

"They're… We're looking to expand the garage to restore vintage cars."

"That… can be lucrative. I presume you would be the center of the restoration side of things?"

"Yes."

"And will just be restoring or are you looking to get into customizations as well?"

"Both. If anyone needs someone to pimp their ride, TM will hopefully be their first choice… someday."

"Interesting. Say I have a '68 Mustang that has been neglected? Would you be able to restore her to her former glory?"

I lowered the ice pack so that he could see the pensive scowl on my face. "I would have to see how bad the neglect was before I could make any promises. That being said, I'm pretty sure that if anyone can do it me and my team can."

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he replied, "You definitely are a smart one. Don't make promises you can't keep. Very smart. Let me know when your new business venture is up and running. I'll schedule a consultation with you."

"Okay… I'll be sure to do that, Mr. Marks."

"Good to hear. Now, there's a sandwich and some fruit in here if you are hungry." He patted the top of the cooler as he spoke. "Although, one day, I hope you feel comfortable enough to tell me why you thought we brought it in here."

My cheeks got hot and I'm sure were a dark shade of red. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I can appreciate how it must have looked from your perspective."

He stood to pass me the cooler, but I just shook my head. "I don't think my stomach can handle solid food yet. Sorry."

"No need to apologize. It's been a stressful day. Is there anything else I can get you to calm your nerves?"

"A… You wouldn't have a smoke on you, would you?"

He chuckled as he stood up and pulled something from the inner pocket of his blazer. When he presented it to me, I just gaped because it was an honest to God gold plated cigarette holder. I didn't think those existed outside of TV and movies. Who was this guy?

After he flipped it open, I stared at its contents and shook my head. "Sorry, I… I don't smoke grass when I'm on the clock."

"Oh. I'm sorry that I assumed." He walked over to the door and paused to ask, "Do you have a preferred brand?"

"No. Just… anything menthol, please."

"Alright." He leaned out the door and gave someone my order. He then closed the door and turned back towards me. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

I stared down at the bottle in my hand and opened my mouth to answer, but I quickly closed it again. "No… I'm fine."

"There is something else. Please, Mia? I'm trying to mend fences with you. Please help me to do that."

"Water's great and all, but a scotch neat is even better."

Marks chuckled then moved towards a cupboard. "Would Highland Park, 25 years, single malt be to the lady's liking?"

I made a show of looking over my shoulders before I answered, "Oh… me? Well, I'm not a lady, but yes. That sounds perfect to me."

He poured us each a healthy portion into a glass before he sat down beside me again. He tapped his glass against mine then took a drink. I watched him before I savored a sip. Wow. That WAS good scotch.

"Thanks," I finally whispered after I savored a couple of sips. "This really helps."

"You're welcome. And again, Mia, I'm very sorry that we scared you. We were…"

"Just doing your job," I interrupted. "It's okay. Mr. Pope is lucky to have men who are so dedicated and thorough at their jobs."

"Is that how you really feel?" He asked with a soft chuckle.

"Absolutely. I… If I was in his position, I would want someone like you at my side."

"That actually sounded like a compliment…"

"It was!" I nearly shouted as I turned to face him. "Really, Mr. Marks, I swear that it was."

He touched his glass to min saying, "I believe you, Mia. I think by now that you can call me August."

"Oh? Okay. Thanks… August."

We sat there sipping our drinks for a couple of minutes in silence. I really wanted to relax, but I couldn't do it for some reason. All I really wanted to do was hug my dad and feel safe in his arms. How fucked up was I? Just a few days ago I was fighting with my dad for freedom. Now I was sitting here longing for his protection. What the fuck was wrong with me?

"If you would prefer, I can leave you alone while we wait for Jax to arrive," August offered when he noticed that I had been staring at my glass in silence for over a minute.

"What?" It was an automatic question before I became fully coherent. "No…" I shook my head and repeated, "No, I… uhh… I'd rather not be left alone right now. If…? I mean… If that's okay?"

"Of course, it is," he answered as he stood up and retrieved the bottle of scotch from the cupboard. I watched as he poured us another serving. "May I ask you a question, Ms. Mia?"

I swallowed half my glass then answered, "You drop the 'Ms.' Shit and you can ask me anything, August." I saw his eyes widen for a second, so I laughed adding, "I told you I wasn't a lady." That made him laugh again. "But either way, feel free to ask your question."

He nodded then took a thoughtful sip from his glass. "What is your affiliation to the MC?"

"You mean…?"

"Yes, I mean other than working at TM. I don't know many straight mechanics that can navigate through the streets on a bike like you did. That tells me there's more to your story, Mia Lowman."

"Well the driver training has nothing to do with SAMCRO. My uncle has no kids and my mother thankfully stopped at me. So, I became the son he never had. That's part of why I'm a mechanic."

"But your uncle isn't SAMCRO? So, you didn't grow up in the club?"

"No, my uncle isn't. But my… my father… my dad is, so… indirectly I did."

"Ah. Which explains why your uncle wanted you to have the driver training. Would you mind me asking who your father is? Just in case I need to do some damage control?"

"My dad won't retaliate."

My reply was a little too automatic that it earned me an uncertain look.

"I swear he won't. Even if Jax ordered it, which he won't, Dad won't do anything because I'll tell him not to. He's a loyal soldier to the Sons, but I'm still Daddy's little girl and I have him wrapped around my pinky."

"Even though you owe him an apology?"

I choked on my scotch as I laughed. "Actually, him feeling guilty always works in my favor. But enough beating around the bush. I'm sure you've met him… or at least seen him with Jax. His name is Happy, but really, he's the tall, bald, brooding type."

"Oh yes, he's the Mmm…"

"He isn't Mexican. Or 'Spanish', so you can shove the racist bullshit somewhere really uncomfortable."

August solemnly nodded then said, "I'm sorry, it's just…"

"Latinos come in all flavors. Even pasty-skinned, Scottish colored mechanics."

That actually caused him to choke on his drink as he laughed. "Alright. Again, I'm sorry for the assumption. Now you said…"

His next question was interrupted by a knock at the door. He stood up from his chair and walked over to answer it. I remained where I was, slowly drinking my scotch. If August needed me to be somewhere, he would tell me. For now, I was just as happy to sit here and wait. The couch was comfortable and the scotch was delicious.

"Mia?"

I looked up from my empty glass to see Jax now standing in the office. I don't know what came over me, but I dropped the glass on the couch so that I could run over and throw my arms around the club's President. Thankfully, he didn't hesitate to reciprocate.

"I'm sorry Jax."

"It's okay." I leaned back so that I could look up into his face. He ran a gentle finger by my left eye asking, "Where's this come from?"

My eyes unconsciously flicked over to where Marks was standing before they turned back to Jax's face. I really hoped it was done fast enough that Jax wouldn't notice, but he of course did. He then took a step closer to me and asked just over a whisper, "Did he do this to you?"

I stepped out of his arms as I replied in an incredulous voice, "No! No, this was an accident. I swear."

"I should give you some privacy," August called out while putting his phone into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

Jax kept his eyes trained on me as he replied to the other man, "Thanks. We shouldn't be long." After he heard the door close, Jax fixed me with a steely glare as he said, "No that we're alone you can tell me the truth. Did Marks do that to you?"

"No, Jax, he didn't."

Then what happened? Did you go down?"

My cheeks started to be colored by a blush. Jax's eyes widened and I could tell that he had misread my embarrassment. "No, I didn't… well… not on the bike. But it's kind of embarrassing, so can we just leave it at Mark's didn't do it?"

"No, we really can't. Now spill, Mia."

I let out a dejected sigh then answered, "Fine… be that way. Okay… well… when he told me his name, I remembered what Tig said about him and Pope. I then… uhh… I kind of fainted."

Jax stared at me for a second before he burst out laughing. I stepped forward and slapped his shoulder whining out, "Jax! It's not funny!"

"Yes, it is. Badass Mia, who gutted the guy who assaulted her, passes out because a guy introduces himself to her? That's funny."

"Yeah… well… The guy Frankie hired didn't have a hype man like Tiggy telling tales about scary shit that could scar someone like… well… Tig." I heaved out a heavy sigh then turned around to sit on the couch again. "But I think it had more to do with the adrenaline pumping through my veins after trying to lose Marks and his men."

"Speaking of," Jax started as he moved to stand closer to me. "When Auggie first called he asked me if anyone from the club was missing a bike."

"Oh… uhh…" He sat down on the desk in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest and a 'don't fuck with me' look on his face. "I told you I had a bike to take on a test run."

"You didn't tell me it would have the club's logo on the side of it."

"Oh… that…" I sat back so that I could look up at him. "Would you believe that I forgot it was there?" He gave me an unimpressed look causing me to add, "The paint job took a lot longer than I expected. It's been covered up so much to keep it safe that I sort of only remember it being covered."

"Oh, come on, Maria."

I stared at him for a few breaths because I knew he wanted to gain my undivided attention by using my full name. "I swear, Jax, I didn't. Plus… If I was going to lie about it, wouldn't I come up with something better than I forgot it was there?"

"Yeah…" He chuckled out. "You definitely would. Alright. Well… we'll have to get you a ride home because now that we know, I can't let you ride it again."

"Okay. I'm really sorry about all of this. I didn't mean to be such a pain in the ass."

"It's alright. I was coming out here to meet with Marks anyway." He stood up to walk to the door and paused before opening it to say, "The paint job looks awesome."