"I take it you aren't taking me to my car?" I cross my arms against my chest as we pass the storage place I am keeping all my belongings. Gemma does what she believes is best for the ones she loves, despite what they want. It's frustrating and amiable.
"Sweetheart if you are back for good as you say, then you might as well rip the bandaid off now. You gotta let the boys know you are back," she tells me as she turns on the street the Teller-Morrow garage is on. Gemma is right, there is no reason to prolong the inevitable. Why does she have to be right?
"Fine," I groan, "At least let me go through the back door to the apartment so that I can change. No one needs to see me in a blood covered shirt. The last thing I want is for the boys to worry about me."
Even though Gemma is wearing sunglasses, the way she scoffs tells me she is rolling her eyes. "Honey, you are SOA's little girl. They never stop worrying about you."
We drive into the lot of the Teller-Morrow garage. There are motorcycles everywhere, meaning the boys are here and not out on some job. As soon as we park I am out the door and walking toward the side of the clubhouse, where the back door is, praying it's unlocked.
"You have fifteen minutes to change, and then I am dragging your ass to see everyone," Gemma shouts after me.
I open the back door and see no one is in the hallway. Sneakily, I tip toe to the apartment's door. When I get in there, I hear the shower going. A hot shower sounds perfect right now, but I am on a time crunch.
I try not to make too much noise while I cross the room and rummage through my bag. I pull out a cream v-neck and a pair of black, frayed shorts. The shower water turns off, and I know I don't have much time left to get out of here. I slide out of my short Soffes, put on fresh underwear, a bra, and my shorts.
The bloody SAMCRO t-shirt hits the floor just as the bathroom door opens. Shit. Thankfully my back is to the door, so he can't see my bandage.
"Casey?" Jax chuckles. "What are you doing?"
There he goes using my full name again.
Without having to look at him, I can tell you Jax has one of his charming smirks on his face. Thankfully, the bandaging on my stomach doesn't reach around to my back. No nagging questions if he can't see how bad my injury is. Pulling the v-neck over my head, I turn to him when it is completely covering my wound.
"I slept here last night. I came in too late to go anywhere else," I answer as I turn around seeing him in a towel. His hair is wet, and there are beads of water on his chest. Why couldn't he be fully clothed when I walked in or not here at all?
"Don't you have an extra key to JJ's house? He sleeps like a rock, and he wouldn't have cared if you stayed there," he lets me know, bending over to pick up his shirt I had thrown on the ground. I have an extra key to JJ's and Gemma's, but I wanted last night alone.
"Jax, it's not clean!" I try to grab it from him, but Jax is too quick. When he sees the amount of blood on his t-shirt, his blue eye widen in worry.
Gemma said she told her boys that the doctors were checking my stitches, from a small dog bite, to make sure they weren't infected. That story is now shown to be a complete lie.
"Something you want to tell me darlin'?" Jax looks at me, his jaw clenched out of anger. Oh, so that is what it takes for him to break out of our awkwardness, me getting injured.
"That shirt may be ruined?" I say, my voice in an unusual high tone.
Jax drops the shirt and jerks forwards, grabbing the end of my v-neck. I grab hold of his wrists tightly.
"Let go," he growls. That is not happening.
"NO," I hiss through my teeth. The tension between us builds, increasing by the second. Jax is looking down at me, his blue eyes cutting into me and I return his glare, looking up at him. The opening of the door makes us jerk apart.
"I said fifteen minutes, and I was serious. Let's go girly," Gemma cuts in. She looks at us with a satisfied expression on her face. I may be looking at Gemma, but I can still feel Jax's eyes on me.
"I am ready," I smile, walking towards the door.
Jax's clutches my wrist, tugging me beside him so that his mouth is by my ear. Shivers crawl up my spine as he talks. "This conversation isn't over."
I shake him off and trail after Gemma. "I am going to need a shot," I tell her as we walk down the hallway.
"JJ, get my little girl a shot," Gemma yells as we round the corner. Gemma's shouting caused all eyes to be on us as we walk in the room. All my favorite men are in one room, except my father and Opie. A feeling of warmth runs through me. I missed my biker family.
"Did you miss me?" A smile breaks across my face. This feeling is why I came home.
Another shot flows down my throat, and the glass gets slammed against the counter. The new prospect, Juice, grabs the glass to fill it back up. This one knows how to keep a girl happy; keep the alcohol coming.
"I bet the women there were sexy. Long legs, big breasts, and asses that need to be touched," Tiggs tells me. I roll my eyes playfully at him. "I should have visited you, doll."
"I am sure my dad would have loved that," I reply sarcastically. Sliding off my barstool, I plant a kiss on Tiggs' cheek. "I missed you, you perv." I mess with his black, curly hair before walking over to JJ, who is playing pool with Chibs, my favorite man with an accent.
"You forgot your next shot," Juice calls after me.
"Don't worry; I will be back for that." I look over my shoulder and give Juice a wink. He blushes a little, and I can't help but snicker. You have to love the new ones, still untouched by the club. They can be so innocent.
"Tell me baby girl, was Vegas crazy?" JJ slings his arm around my shoulder, and I lean my head against him.
"Oh, you have no idea," I mutter.
"Jason this place is shit. No way you are going to flip. We live in Vegas, a town filled with clubs and bars. Is another one needed?" I don't want to hurt Jason's feelings, but he shouldn't blow his money on something that is going to tank. Not that Jason has a shortage of cash. He is standing in front of me in a suit that probably costs over one grand.
The place he brought me to is covered in old, dusty white sheets. I don't think there have been people here in at least ten to fifteen years. According to the locals, before it ultimately went under, the place went through owner after owner. It apparently has some bad mojo attached to it.
"This bar will have two things all the others don't, you and me," Jason smirks, his pearly white smile almost evil.
"You and me? I didn't put any money into this place!" I walk closer to him narrowing my eyes. I am not sure I like where this was going. "And don't be fooled, you aren't getting a cent out of me."
Jason is a regular of mine at the bar I work out. He tips great, is attractive, brilliant, and has an alluring British accent. Every time he comes into the bar he tells me he sees me in his future, and if I weren't madly in love with someone else, maybe I would think the same.
"I had the idea when I first set my eyes on you," he admits.
"When you first saw me? Quit being a flirt and tell me what you plan to do with this place."
Jason walks up to me grabbing my shoulders. "I am serious, love. We are going to flip this place and make it the best damn bar in this town. I may have already started." His hands cover my eyes. "I have always wanted to open a bar I could call my own. Do you remember what you told me the first night we met?"
"It's been a year; I barely remember how you convinced me to come here with you tonight," I laugh.
"I asked you what brought you to Vegas and you said, "I was running away, but now that I am here I think this place will be my future. I just have to figure out how I am going to it happen." With one hand still over my eyes, he starts guiding me somewhere.
"Jason! Where are we going?!"
"Hush, my story isn't over. In saying that, you made me remember what caused me to come here. I have always wanted to open a bar that imports the best beer from all around the globe right here in Vegas. Then I got here, and I got caught up in the gambling, the shows, and everything else this place has to offer." Jason uncovers my eyes.
We are standing in what looks to be an office. The office has a black and white theme to it, with a splash of red, my favorite color. Sitting on the desk is a picture frame, and the picture happens to be of me with my SOA boys.
In the picture, we are standing in front of all their motorcycles, and none of us have on a serious face. I can't remember what we were laughing at, but I am in a graduation gown, and they are all in their cuts.
"Be my partner, in owning this bar. This place will be profitable, and when you have earned enough to do what you want, you can leave. No strings attached. Though, I highly doubt you will want to leave," Jason leans against the desk, "To convince you I stole that picture you kept in the console of your car and gave it a proper home. On the desk of your new job."
Why would he do this for me? We have been friends for about a year, which isn't long, and before that, I was just his favorite bartender. I refuse to believe his proposition has to do with his feelings for me. Jason and I have hooked up a few times, and he's mentioned wanting commitment. I have run from all of those conversations. So, doing all of this for me would be irrational.
"If you can flip this bar like you have this office, I am in. One condition though, I want the truth. Why are you doing this?" I put my hands on my hips, wanting an honest answer. This is one of these too good to be true moments. Where is the catch?
"I love you Cas, I do. And despite you avoiding being my girlfriend, I think you should give us, and this life we could have a chance. You are wild and free spirited; no one can stop you. I have been living vicariously through you, with all of your crazy stories that you tell. You are the reason I took this leap. Why should I let life stop me? You don't let it stop you!" Jason's green eyes look at me, wondering what my answer will be. His hand brushes over his facial hair; something he does when he is nervous.
I am not in love with Jason. When he hugs me butterflies don't burst through my stomach. If our hands accidentally touch I don't yearn to grab his hand. Don't get me wrong I think Jason is one of the most attractive people I know and there is something there. But, wouldn't it be a mistake for me to date Jason if I still love Jax?
But, Jax isn't here. I left Charming for a reason, and an offer like this will never come around again. Owning a bar would be the perfect job for me.
"Jason, what happens if we date and it doesn't work out?" I contemplate.
"Love, I am never letting you go."
"Cas, earth to my baby girl." JJ is waving his hand in front of my eyes. I snap out of it and look around to see Jax, Juice, and JJ staring at me. Chibs no longer in sight.
"Oh, sorry. I lost my train of thought," I laugh, brushing off the memory; if only I had known what getting into business with Jason would end up like.
"I brought you that shot," Juice smiles, handing me the small glass. I take it, throwing it back like a pro. This prospect better get patched in. He is my favorite one, and I have met a ton of them in my twenty-four years of life.
"How many of those have you had?" Jax asks.
"I don't know, pretty boy. There is no reason to count. When I feel like I am drunk enough, I will stop." I snap at him. His current attitude is killing the mood.
JJ chuckles, thinking our bickering is humorous.
"Juice, don't give her any more," Jax commands, glaring at the prospect. Juice mouths 'sorry' and walks back to the bar.
Jax has no right to be controlling. I am fully capable of taking care of myself. Hell, I lived in the craziest city in the nation for four years, and I got out alive. Barely, but I still did it.
"Okay, you two that's enough-" JJ starts to say.
"What's going on here?"
Not recognizing the voice, I spin around to see who's interrupted me having fun. A woman wearing dark lipstick is walking towards us. She has brown hair, highlighted with blonde, and heavy frown lines. This woman is not someone I have met before. The boys told me there would be no croweaters here tonight. So, why is she?
"Wendy, I didn't know you were stopping by." Jax shifts almost uncomfortably, next to me. I don't want to consider the idea, but this might be a girl Jax is sleeping around with. The thought makes me feel a little bit nauseous.
"You must be new around here. I am Wendy," she says, in a tone that says stay-away-from-my-man. Clearly, no one has informed her of me. Or she wouldn't be taking that tone.
"You would be the new one. I am Casey Winston, old and just returning." I give her a smirk as she frowns when I say my name.
A hand lands on my shoulder, and the rings on it tell me it's Gemma. "Wendy? What are you doing here?"
I grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. Something tells me she intentionally left this girl out when she told me what has been going on in Charming while I was away. Gemma is up to something, and I have a feeling this something is trying to get rid of Wendy.
"I am Jax's wife. Why wouldn't I come?" she sneers, her lips in a frown as if the sight of Gemma and I disgusts her.
I used to laugh at the people who told me words had caused them physical pain. What can someone possibly say to cause another a person physical pain? Well, apparently 'I am Jax's wife' can do just that. My hand immediately goes to my stomach, though my chest received most of the blow. The pain starts in my heart and spreads through my body like wildfire.
"Gemma, I think I am ready to go," I whisper, gazing over my shoulder.
Gemma's eyes are soft, and for the first time in a long time, I see sadness in her eyes. A part of her had always wished Jax, and I would end up married. We would have mini Teller's, and they too would become Son's. Wendy seems to have taken that role from me.
"No, I got her. Why don't you stay at my place? Piney doesn't even know you are back. You will give him a heart attack if you show up in the middle of the night."
JJ puts his hand on the small of my back, guiding me away. I couldn't leave just yet. This, Wendy chick may have my guy, but she isn't going to chase me away from my club.
I turn around staring right at her. Out of my peripherals, I can see Jax. His face has concern written all over it, and guilt brims in his eyes. I choose to ignore all that. If he had wanted to lessen the blow of the news he could have at least had the balls to tell me himself.
"Being married to a Son doesn't automatically make you an old lady. And to be perfectly honest, I am not so sure you make the cut," a venomous smile creeps across my face, "good luck fitting in here, hun. They don't take kindly to strangers."
Wendy's face goes blank, not expecting me to say anything after she said she was Jax's wife. Stupid girl, I grew up here up in this clubhouse, hell I practically lived here after I turned sixteen. This is my home, not hers.