I appreciate all of you leaving love and recommendations. This isn't a short story, and I wish I could say that I'm sorry Hollis hasn't met Happy yet, but I'm not. It's my story and I'm going to continue to write it the way I want to write it. IF you don't like the plot or the direction I'm taking it and the time frame it's taking me, then I'm sorry, but ya' should move on down the road and read something else. (This is no way pertains to those kindly asking me for more, and sooner, so please do not be confused in that aspect. I love you guys; it makes me happy to know you want more!)

On that note, I do appreciate those of you that have been nothing but patient. I work anywhere from 50hrs+ a week, I write because I enjoy it and I'm hoping the rest of you enjoy reading what I write. I cannot and will not promise to be great with my timing. I know a lot of writers who are awesome about it, but unfortunately this is not how I make money and I have parents to help care for. I appreciate your patience, love, and support. You guys are cool as hell.

If you want to hang out, you've gotta take her out, cocaine
If you want to get down, get down on the ground, cocaine

It was nearly 2:30 in the morning when Hollis parked her sedan near the high, chain-link fence. In her drowsy state, she hadn't even cared to change out of her puppy-printed pajama pants and the baggy Zeppelin shirt that had seen better days, including less bleach stains and holes in the armpit.

It was closely fifteen minutes ago when she had awoken to the loud ringtone of her cellphone. Notifications lit up the screen, the first few had been from Nate, telling her of his safe arrival to Noae's after the movie, that it has been worth the eighty-fifty charge, another telling her that they were headed to bed. The last and current, a call from an unrecognizable number, one that had belonged to Gemma Morrow herself, telling her that her kid brother and his friend had snuck into a party at Teller-Morrow and Nathan obviously had more than he could handle.

"I don't know how you raise children, but I have two seventeen-year-old's tellin' me this number is responsible for them. So, unless you want me to kick your ass, you'll get down to Teller-Morrow and pick up your damn kids!"

Enraged didn't begin to breach the surface of emotions she was feeling.

Huffing a piece of hair from her nose, Hollis placed her sneaker-covered feet on the concrete, pushing herself out of her car. The place was packed, motorcycles lining near the front entrance of multiple lined garage doors. How the hell the place got away with being so loud and obnoxious was a mystery to her.

And God, did it smell. As soon as Hollis passed through the right side door leading towards the bar, she was sure the amount of weed in the air was enough to give her an immediate contact high. Her eyes scanned the area, trying to see over the taller women, most of which were half naked, the only parts of them truly covered being their feet with tall boots that looked incredibly intimating and a mile long.

Her body felt the physical vibration from the music as she tried to move as swiftly as she could through the large crowd. She was having trouble seeing through the bodies.

"Don't I know you?" She moved back, startled again by the sexiest grin she had ever witness. Damn. He was physically hard to look at, too beautiful. She suddenly became aware and immediately embarrassed by what she wearing. "You practically knocked me over, right?"

"I'm pretty sure you told me you were fine." She couldn't help sassing him, it was nearing 3 in the morning and she was missing sleep- easily her favorite pastime.

"Right, but you nearly broke my heart, runnin' away from me and all. You're not the politest person, huh? Good sense of style, though." He was mocking her, pinching two fingers to lightly pull at her pajama bottoms. Jax couldn't believe his luck when he saw the petite, platinum blonde woman from the hospital. He hadn't seen her before, but the chance meeting seemed like the first and only run-in he'd have with her, and now? Now she was standing in his clubhouse, during a patch party, in pajamas.

She swatted at his hand quickly, "And you must think the world of yourself to touch someone with their permission."

He held his hands up in a surrendering position, "Just a joke, Darlin'-"

"Look, I'm not here to dress up. My brother is here, somewhere," she pointed towards the ground. "Drunk. He's seventeen. I'm not exactly freaking happy about being here right now, okay? So, can you point me in the direction of Gemma Morrow?"

"Seventeen, huh?" Is that seriously all he heard? "Worse things he could be doin' than enjoying a little beer."

"Worse? Than a drugged fueled party ran by a local motorcycle gang?"

"Enthusiasts," he corrected.

"What?" She stopped.

"We're motorcycle enthusiasts." The way he said it was matter-of-fact, but the mischievous glint in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. Already feeling like she had wasted enough time, she pushed through the crowd away from him and back towards the front door. "Wait!"

She practically sighed, choking back fresh air. Hollis had never been the type of person to fall into the party scene. Truly, she was never given the opportunity to, but if this is what partying meant, she wanted nothing to do with it.

"You're not going to find Gemma standing out her." Her messy ponytail did nothing to prevent his warm breath from assaulting the soft skin of her neck as he spoke over her shoulder.

"Seriously?" Hollis wasn't typically so angry, but God, was she tired and grumpy. Nathan had never done anything so irresponsible. Smoking weed at Todd's house was nothing compared to sneaking into a gang party with half naked women and, to her disgust, women openly performing sexual acts for the biker's in the corner. The wall showing an array of mugshots hadn't gone unnoticed by her.

"Look, I'm sorry. Can we start again? I can help you find Gemma, no sweat." He held his hand out as a peace-offering. "My name's Jax."

Did she have a choice? Grumpily, and with a slight pout, Hollis placed her hand in Jax's after slight deliberation. His skin was rough, his fingers long, and the skin clean. His hands looked more like a musician than someone who worked on cars, and Hollis silently wondered if he worked here or just attended the parties.

"Hollis."

A sugary sweet smile crept across his beautiful, white teeth and Hollis couldn't help but feel like she had just given the Devil her name.

Just as many house guests found the lot more than accommodating. Jax had grabbed her by the arm, recommending that they would likely find Gemma in her office. The walk there had been nothing but a short few feet, and Hollis wasn't entirely sure who Jax was, but the crowd parted for him like the Red sea.

He lifted a tan hand, knocking on the door with two cracked knuckles. "Ma? You in there?"

Ma? As in mother? Hollis wanted to dig herself a hole right then and there. Did she have to run into the one person that Gemma was related to? The woman obviously despised her from the short pep-talk in the elevator and when she found it was Hollis that was (partially, at least half) responsible for the two drunken idiots, she wouldn't be surprised if Gemma shoved her foot straight up her ass.

Jax cracked the door open, pulling the small woman in behind him. Irritation was seeping from every pore of the older woman behind the desk, a lit cigarette resting in her right hand, elbows on the desk in front of her.

Nathan sat on a loveseat, a lazy smile across his face as Noae, appearing to be completely asleep, had his head resting on Nathan's shoulder. A tan, tall man stood beside the loveseat, arms folded over the other, shadowed by the poor light in the office.

"Well, no shit." The smirk on Gemma's face was enough to alight Hollis'. The pure look of contempt was anything but subtle. "If it isn't Vanilla. These two belong to you?"

"It's Hollis," she corrected. "And yeah, they're mine." She took the few short steps from the door over to the loveseat, crouching down so Nathan could easily focus on her. "Nath-"

"Holly! Sis!" He wrapped his arms around her neck, pulling her towards his chest. "Guys, this is my sister, Hollis! What are you doing here? Wait… You aren't supposed to know I'm here! Ssshhh-"

"Yeah, no shit." She said while untangling herself from his lanky arms. Resting one hand on his thigh to keep her balance, she snapped the other hand in front of his face to catch his attention. "I don't know how much you'll remember tomorrow, but you are sooo grounded, Nathan Walsh."

A masculine scoff came from the right of her, and in her anger, she lifted her eyes quickly to the man that had been standing grumpily in the corner. From this angle, she could make his features out slightly better than from by the door. The soft lamp-light did barely any service, but the man was obviously tan. Tan and very handsome. His head was shaved, tattoos lining his skin in multiple areas, all looking like dark shapes and blobs from her position. The slight stubble over a healing rash could be seen on his face. Hollis practically swallowed her tongue as she finally looked the man directly in the face. The two dark eyes staring at her with nothing but derision were identical to the license sitting in the wallet that didn't belong to her.

Unable to restrain her, "Happy Lowman?"