My whole life I've been telling myself "don't be afraid" and it is only now that I'm realizing how stupid that is. Don't be afraid. Like saying "don't move out of the way when someone tries to punch you" or "don't flinch at the heat of a fire" or "don't blink", don't be human. I'm afraid and you're afraid and we're all always going to be afraid. Because that's the point. What I should be telling myself is "be afraid but do it anyway", live anyway. -Unknown.

My back was firmly pressed against the door as if the lock would fail and by some miracle my tiny frame would be enough to keep it shut. I exhaled; my breathing coming out ragged and heavy. I tried to listen, to hear his footsteps or any noise indicating his presence. All I could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall adjacent from me. I sunk down to the floor.

I wagered with myself if I should be scared. I was, but was it justified? Had I only been frightened because of the events from the other night? For all I knew, this could just be some drunk who was wandering around aimlessly, or a young man who didn't particularly like my uncle. Perhaps he arrested him, I thought, or maybe it was a friend of his, coming to say his goodbyes. I stood up and walked towards the window, peering outside.

The yard was vacant and quiet. The man was seemingly gone. I cursed myself for reacting the way I had and managed to catch my breath. Lighting a cigarette, I built up the courage to head out to my car.

There was no one in sight. Had I imagined the stranger? I peered in to the windows, making sure no one was hiding in the back seat. I've watched enough horror movies in my lifetime to make me overly paranoid in situations like this. I let out a sigh of relief, realizing it was empty. Could I have post traumatic stress disorder? I'm not sure if it could cause hallucinations, and I didn't feel any different than I had before the shooting. I shook my head, getting in my vehicle and pulling out of the drive way. I adjusted my rear-view mirror, glancing at the house one last time. I almost hoped someone would jump out of the shadows just so I was certain that I wasn't losing my mind.

It didn't even dawn on me that I had absolutely no idea where I was going until I was already on my way. I've never been to Gemma and Clay's, I had only been formerly introduced to everyone days ago.

"..fuck." I muttered. I headed towards the club house, hoping someone would still be hanging around who could give me directions. I passed the Iron Horse and noticed Donna's car parked in front. Performing an illegal U-turn, I pulled up next to it.

It was amazing how quickly all the furniture was replaced. It looked exactly as it had before the riot. I made my way through the crowd to the bar. Donna was waiting on a customer.

"Can I get you something?" A voice asked. I turned my attention off of the brunette. A gray-haired man stood behind the bar smiling at me.

"Uh.. Yeah. Give me a Bud Light, draft. Thank you." I returned the smile.

He slid me a glass, "you waiting on someone?" He asked. "Not many pretty girls come to bars by themselves."

"I'm a friend of Donna's." I told him, motioning to her. She glanced towards me and walked over.

"Hey," she said, "what are you doing here? I figured you'd be at Gemma's by now."

"I was supposed to be, but I dont where the hell she lives. I forgot to ask." I said, sipping the head from my beer.

"Well I'm done with my shift in..," she looked down at her watch, "five minutes. We'll ride up together, it'll save me a trip to the gas station."

"Okay," I replied, thankful.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, "I almost forgot, Nichole, this is the owner," she pointed at the old man, "Jack Riley." I nodded. She turned to him.

"This is the girl who helped me clean up after the fight that broke out." She said. "She's actually looking for a job."

"Do you have any experience?" He asked me.

"Is four years enough?"

"It'll do.. I really appreciate what you did.. Not many people would stay behind after something like that...," he said, "drinks on the house, come in tomorrow at six. Donna can show you the ropes."

"Sure, it was nice meeting you." I said. My voice sounded monotone and indifferent. I wanted the job. I should be happy, but I just couldn't shake the thought of the stranger lurking in the darkness. I scanned the room, wondering if it was any of them. No one seemed suspicious or had even given me a second glance since I walked in. They were all going about their business; drinking and laughing with their friends. Perchance I had nothing to worry about.

"Come on, I'm done." Donna said, clocking out. I chugged my drink and followed her out.

She jumped in to the passenger seat of my car in a hurry. I joined her, turning the radio on in hopes to avoid a conversation. I believe she understood my motives. She stayed silent, bobbing to the music and only speaking to tell me directions. I was a prisoner of my own mind sometimes. When anything happens that I can't fully comprehend, I stress over every detail; think of every possibility and each outcome. It was one of my least favorite qualities I had. I could sit for hours in silence breaking a situation down piece by piece, taking in to perspective all of the could-haves, would-haves or maybe's.

We pulled up to a beautiful house which was surrounded by motorcycles and a few cars. I immediately dreaded accepting the invitation, wanting nothing but to be alone with my thoughts. Donna got out and began walking to the door; I followed behind her, crossing my arms across my chest. The entrance was open and loud dialogue and bellows of laughter poured outside. I sighed.

Everyone was standing around, beers in hand. I forced a small smile when some of the men looked my way. Donna had bee-lined to the living room and perched herself on her husband's lap. Jax sat next to him. His eyes fell on me and I managed a slight wave before setting out to find the kitchen, where Gemma would more than likely dwell.

"You're late," she said, pulling food from the oven. I leaned against the doorway.

"Funny story actually," I told her, "no one gave me directions." She smirked.

"I suppose that's a good enough excuse," she said. "Give me a hand with this shit. Lord knows none of the boys will offer." She motioned to the buffet she had prepared.

I helped her set the table in the dining room. Clay had stumbled over to us noticeably intoxicated and tried to pick at a tray of steamed vegetables. Gemma slapped his hand away and continued setting out silverware. I felt two familiar arms wrap around me from behind.

"Thanks for saying hi," he whispered sarcastically before kissing me on the cheek. I could feel his mother's eyes on me but refused to meet her gaze.

"I waved." I said as he released his grip. The men started piling in to the room, eager to devour their dinner. Jax grabbed my hand and pulled me to a chair next to him.

"I want to make a toast," Clay said, holding his drink in the air, "to Charming returning to the safe town we fight so hard to maintain, to my brothers, my family. And to my beautiful wife, Gemma who slaved all day for this. I love you." He said.

"I love you, too." She told him. He motioned to his lips, tapping on them. She walked to him and leaned over consenting the light kiss.

"I just got my new wheels in today," Juice began, "you know those motherfucker's sent me the wrong brand for the third time. I swear I'm giving them a piece of my mind first thing tomorrow."

"Do you think you can spare it?" Bobby said, smirking. Some of the boys laughed at his comment.

"You sure you're putting the order in right, Juicy boy.. I had no problem when I got mine." Chibs said.

"If he was any dumber, he'd have to be watered twice a week." Tig added.

"You guys are real funny." Juice said, pretending to be annoyed. "I'd watch my back if I was you."

"What are you gonna do, drop us like third period math?" Bobby said.

He shook his head, "I swear, I put the order in right. It's like trying to speak Chinese to a Mexican."

"That's how we feel when we talk to you," Tig said. Juice elbowed the raven-hairred man who was sitting next to him. Tig put him in a quick headlock, knocking over a beer bottle.

"Hey!" Gemma yelled, "Save the rough-housing for the club house. If that doesn't get cleaned up right now, someone's getting a size nine heel shoved up their ass."

"The queen has spoken," Jax laughed. Both men were already out of their seats scrubbing the floor with their dinner rags.

"I've had worse things shoved up there." Tig called out.

"What kind of awful things did your mother do to you when you were young, Trager?" Clay asked, appalled. He shrugged.

"Got to try everything once.."

I looked at Gemma. She was watching the men converse, admiring them. This was her family, blood-related or not. I recognized the look on her face. It was the same look my mother would give me years ago. I miss that look.

"You okay, darlin'?" Jax nudged me, "you haven't said much tonight."

"Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled.

"Alright," he said, grabbing my hand and kissing it. I blushed.

Gemma stood up, retrieving a bottle of champagne from a china cabinet.

"What's the special occasion?" Clay asked her. She sliced the top off with a knife, a party trick I've only ever seen in movies.

"Let's just say we're celebrating the future." She smiled at me, pouring a glass and handing it to me. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I accepted it. Jax rested his hand on my thigh.

"I'll drink to that." He said bringing his beer to his lips. Everyone followed in sync.

"How about we move this party to the club house. I'm in serious need of some barely legal pussy." Bobby said.

"Didn't you hit that red head last night?" Juice asked.

"So?" He replied.

"Hope you wrapped that shit. That's a high traffic zone." Opie laughed.

"Bobby's got more kids than Juice has brain cells." Jax chimed in.

"No. I'm safe," Bobby said, "I pull out."

"Yeah, well that doesn't always work. What are you going to do when a sixteen year old run-a-way shows up on your front steps looking for her daddy?"

"Bobby Munson? Nope, never heard of him." Bobby replied.

"That's horrible," I said, shaking my head.

"Boys will be boys." Gemma shrugged.

The table broke off into groups of separate conversations. Alcohol-fueled debates and playful banter filled the room. I excused myself from my seat, wanting nothing but fresh air and made my way out of the house. I lit a cigarette and sat down on the steps. It was comfortable outside; a slight breeze took the edge off of the normal California weather. I took a drag of my smoke, noticing something on my windshield. I squinted, trying to will my eye sight to see beyond the norm.

I stood up and started walking towards it. My pace started slow, and then sped up as I got closer. "What the hell.." I muttered, picking up a freshly cut rose that was placed between my wipers.

Who put it there, and why? I looked around, however it was too dark outside to see much of anything. Jax hadn't left my side since I got here so there's no way it would've been him. My mind flashed to the image of the man from earlier. I dropped the flower to the ground and began backing away from it. I hit into a blunt object; a body. I screamed.

"What's wrong?" A frantic Jax asked. "What are you doing out here?"

"Uh.." I stammered, "nothing's wrong. You just scared me, that's all." I lied. "I was just getting some fresh air."

"You're not usually so jumpy." He noted.

"I seen a rat." He cocked his eye brow, unconvinced but didn't press the issue.

"Everyone's heading out."

"Okay." I said.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Jax asked. I nodded. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips before walking towards his bike. I watched him, contemplating whether to tell him about the current events.

I remembered his concern for me. He had urged me things would get worse and warned me to leave. If I told him, how would he react? He would probably convince himself that whoever was toying with me was trying to get to him or the club and force me to leave Charming. I couldn't leave him. This is where I'm supposed to be. I've never felt like I belonged anywhere until I came here. I imagined getting into my car and never seeing his bright blue eyes smiling at me again and felt a pang in my heart. I'll deal with it myself.

"Hey!" I called. He turned to acknowledge me. I ran over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and crushed my lips onto his. I could feel him fight a smile as he pulled me closer. "Stay with me tonight?" He whispered, breaking away from me.

"Aren't you sick of me yet?" I joked.

"Never."

"I'll meet up with you in a little. I'm going to say goodnight to your mother and pick up some things from Unser's." I told him.

"Alright, darlin'." He started his motorcycle and took off.

I walked back in to the house. Everyone was saying their goodbye's. Gemma was hugging Donna.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked her. She released the brunette from her clutch.

"What's the matter?"

She seen the look of unwillingness in my eyes to speak in front of the others and dragged me to the kitchen. "What is it?" She repeated herself.

"I, uh.. I hope this doesn't sound crazy.." I said, "I want to buy a gun. I just don't know of any places around here."

"What do you need a gun for?" She questioned, putting her hands on her hips.

"Maybe I'm being paranoid. I just feel like I'd be more comfortable if I had one."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're hiding something?" She's smart, I thought. I didn't reply.

She walked over to a closet, grabbing a box from the top shelf. She pulled out a pistol and threw it to me. I almost didn't catch it, being unprepared and all.

"I don't know what you need it for, but if you're going to have a gun at least be careful about it."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The serial number's been filed off. Cops can't track it." She said. "I'm guessing my son doesn't know about this."

"No." I said. "He doesn't. I don't want to worry him.. He'll overreact if I told him I didn't feel safe.. ya know? Think it's the club's fault or his or something.. It isn't" I assured her. "I guess I just want to be able to defend myself if anything were to happen." She grabbed a piece of paper from the counter and scribbled something on it.

"Here," she handed it to me.

"What's this?"

"My number.. Incase you get in to trouble." She said. "You know, you remind me a lot of myself when I was young. I haven't decided if that's a good or bad thing yet."

"Goodnight, Gemma. And thank you."

I started my engine and gently removed the silver weapon from my purse, inspecting it. I've never shot a gun before or put any thought in to having to. I wasn't certain how big of a threat I was up against, if I was even up against anything at all. The man could be harmless. I still didn't know how serious this could turn out to be nor was I certain if I could actually take a life if I had to. My mother had always told me that preparation was key. Surely she hadn't meant it in this situation; not too many people think they'll have to deal with something like this, but I suppose it still made sense.

Pulling in to Unser's driveway, two police cruisers were parked in front; I recognized one that belonged to Charlie, my late uncle's close friend. The sound of my car door slamming startled the men.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, panic in my voice.

"What have you been?" He said. I ignored him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came here to check on you. You weren't answering your phone." I shot him an apologetic look. "Officer, I've got it from here, consider it handled." The other man nodded and walked to his vehicle. Charlie watched him depart before looking back at me.

"Are you aware that the front door was kicked in?" I shook my head, signaling my ignorance. "I found this on the coffee table." He pulled out a yellow envelope with the word beautiful jotted on the front of it.

"What is it?"

"Pictures of you. From the funeral, walking around town, on the back of Jackson Teller's bike," He reached in to his pocket, removing a folded up picture he must have snatched from the pile, "at that bar that was burned down the other night.." He showed me a photograph of myself standing at that entrance of the building that had supposedly had a tragic gas leak.

"Oh my god." I said, throwing my hand over my face.

"Do you understand what this means?"

"Someone's following me."

"No, someone's stalking you. And this picture, could cause officials to look more in to the fire and place you as a suspect."

"What really happened that night?" He demanded.

"I don't know."

"You were there, Nichole!" He flipped it over, showing me the time stamp on the back of the Polaroid. I was at a loss for words. "Do you know the position this puts me in?" I shook my head and swallowed loudly.

"You could get charged for arson, mass murder... Do you understand how long you'd go away for? That's a life sentence, if not death row. It's easier to brush the fire under the rug when there's no evidence of foul play or any witness's. This picture places you there."

"...I didn't. I was just, um," I stammered.

"Jesus Christ," he exclaimed,"your uncle is probably turning in his grave."

"Are you going to turn me in?" I managed to ask. He looked at me angrily before softening his stare.

"No, of course not." He sighed. "But I can't say the same for whoever took these pictures."

"Does the other officer know... about them." I said.

"I didn't show him, I took it out as soon as I realized where it was taken," Charlie stated. "I know how things work around here. How the Son's handle shit.. I know you've been spending time with them.."

"I didn't kill anyone."

"That's something you'd have to convince a judge and a jury if this gets out... I know you wouldn't, but it sure looks that way." He said, handing me the evidence. "Get rid of this. And get out of here, someone's after you. Don't let him catch you alone. This is out of my hands, sweetheart. All I can do is keep tabs on you. If I report a stalking and other officers get involved, more shit could leak that could put you behind bars. Its bad enough that I had the rookie here with me. Luckily, he's training under me and doesn't ask too many questions. You have to tell the club."

A/N: (PLEASE REVIEW) if you liked the chapter. I meant to post this sooner, however work has gotten to be a bit much this past week. I hope you enjoyed it, and will continue reading. Sorry that there wasn't too much of Jax in this chapter.