AOIFE

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It looks different in here, the clubhouse is all dark wood and cigarette smoke. I can't imagine this place is ever quiet either, boots on concrete, engines humming, deep voices and doors slamming.

Gemma doesn't slow down, she's walking down the corridor to the back of the club house like she's on a fucking mission. She has this strange confidence in her shoulders like she's owns ever nail holding this place up.

Her heels clip sharp over the floorboards and I follow with one bag hung over my shoulder hitting my thigh and the other which Chibs had handed back to me in my hand.

"Bathrooms down there," she jerks her chin toward the far end of the hall, "Kitchens through the main room. You want food, get there before the guys inhale everything."

"Mhm, comforting." She lightly snorts at that just as she stops at the last door and pushes it open.

I peer inside as she says, "This is you"

Small? Might as well be a fucking supply cupboard. A narrow... single bed pressed up against one of the walls.  Old dresser dark and stained under the poor excuse for a window. The smell of smoke clings subtly to everything in the room. It's in the curtains, the bedding and probably the fucking paint.

I step into the room and it proves the exact standing point, this is temporary. I venture further inside and dump my bags down on the end of the bed.

The springs complain instantly, groaning under the weight of my bags. Fucking hell. Gemma lingers in the doorway watching me, "Don't make that face. You're not at the Ritz."

I glance back at her not bothering to hide the unimpressed expression on my face, "Could've fooled me."

She looks around the room once and shrugs, "it'll do till we sort the rest."

There it is again, this is all temporary like my life might as well be. Massive warning don't get too comfortable here. Charming is not your home.

I move toward the window first, just looking at what I have to deal with. The blind is crooked, bent at one end. Then my attention turns to the door...

The lock is an absolute fucking joke. One of them wee little twist locks, cheap. That'd barely keep a polite man out. I test it once, fingers toying with the mechanisms, it's flimsy, loose as fuck.

Gemma's still watching me, "What? Planning on barricading yourself in?"

"Depends who's on the other side." I say still toying with the lock.

She arches a brow, slow, "you'll be just fine."

That's not reassuring from her in the slightest. I test the lock again anyway like one sweet prayer to Jesus might just solve all my problems.

Gemma pushes off the wall, "Get Settled. I gotta make some calls."

She turns and starts walking down the hall before I can answer. And I'm left standing in this shitty room that smells of smoke and strangers.

I crouch to unzip my smaller bag, Toothbrush, jeans, vest tops, underwear, notebooks. My life cramped into an odd bag. I get only as far as pulling out clean clothes when a voice echoes behind me.

"Well, Hell!" A man, always a fucking man.

I straighten so fast I almost trip on nothing but air. I turn toward the voice to be met with Dark hair. Cut. Rings decorating his hands. A sly almost lazy way about him as his eyes drag across me slow enough to feel dirty.

"Belfast's prettier than I pictured." He grins slyly.

"Charming's uglier." I retort my mouth flat.

He just smirks wider, "I'm Tig." He leans one shoulder against the doorframe making himself comfortable before he continues. "Mean too. Chibs undersold you."

"Did he? That's unlike him." I say and his eyes catch on my face again before drifting down.

"You settling in okay, sweetheart?" I almost groan at the way he says it.

"Just got here." I exhale keeping my spine straight.

"Yeah" he tilts his head, "Thin walls. You need anything in the night, I'm usually right down the hall."

My fingers tighten around the t-shirt in my hand and I roll my eyes. I could play nice, I probably should. But when have I ever been good at that.

"Good," I respond evenly, "now I know exactly where to avoid."

For a second he just looks at me then laughs. It's a full laugh, pleased with himself. "You've got an attitude."

"Tig!" Right on cue Gemma's voice cuts through us.

He glances over his shoulder. Then back at me, grin still the same. "See you around Belfast."

He pushes off the doorframe and disappears back into the hallway like he was never there at all. I shut the door behind him, basically slam it shut just to test the lock again.

I flip the lock, shake the handle, it wobbles, loosens. I stare right at the lock like it might just fix itself. It doesn't.

Shit. First thing I'm getting in this stupid town is a new lock, second might just be a knife.

I barely get to sit down on the creaky bed when a sound passes my door, it stops. Then starts again peaking my interest.

It stops, then starts. I stand up and walk closer to my closed door someone swears under their breath. A woman? Must be Gemma.

Then a phone starts ringing, I check mine automatically like a reflex but it's coming from the hallway. But I do hear Gemma's voice when she answers.

"Luann slow down." Followed by enough quiet that whoever's on the other line must be talking. Then Gemma exhales, "Jesus Christ."

I edge closer to the door as Gemma continues, "No- I'm coming. Don't do anything until I get there."

Then silence again, but only for a second before the door handle rattles. I'm there in an instant, opening the door. Gemma's gaze lingers on me for a second before she says, "Wanna sit here all day, be my guest."

"That an invitation?" I raise a brow just slightly.

"It's Cara Cara."

"Which is??" I draw out the word trying to understand the importance of whatever the fuck that it.

"Porn."

I blink at her, brows tightening, "Porn? You're taking me to a porn set?"

"I'm going to see my friend." Her voice is flatter now. "You can come or sit on your own. Up to you."

She turns before I can answer already turning to leave my room and walk down the corridor. My eyes do one quick swoop of the room and my decision's made.

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She runs into Gemma who's storming out teller-morrow to go to cara cara. Gemma's being weird, twitchy, agitated. Aoife goes with her to Cara cara.

Gemma pulls up outside cara cara, I stare at her in disbelief. The club owns a fucking porn studio? The deep hum of engines raw as we get out her car and start walking toward the entrance, sun beaming down as a bike pulls up.

I glance back just as he speaks, Clay, not even off his bike yet "What are you doing here?"

Gemma doesn't even look up or stop walking, "Luann Called. She's freaking out."

"Apparently that's all people do around here." I mutter under my breath as Clay gets off his bike.

"It's club business. You got no reason to intervene. Or bring her here." He gestures toward me like I'm another inconvenience.

"I'm grand, can handle myself" I cross my arms and stop walking just as Gemma turns back toward Clay taking her sunglasses off.

Gemma waves an arm toward me, "She's fine. An- what intervene? Luann's my friend. She needs to talk."

"Oh. So when she wants to talk, you what? Drop everything?" Clay waves a hand, his expression part annoyed, part dismissive.

I exhale, long and slow and lean against the bonnet of Gemma's car. This is definitely gonna take a minute.

"Jesus Christ, what are you, three?" Gemma retorts, tone growing more agitated with every word.

"Alright, let's calm down a wee bit, yeah?" I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips as clays head snaps in my direction eyes vicious for a moment before looking straight back to Gemma.

"Get back to the Garage. The both of you." Clay says, voice getting just slightly louder as Tig's bike pulls up and he just stays there watching.

"Excuse me?" Gemma turns toward Clay disgusted this time.

"Last thing I need is for you running diva over a god damn cum factory, you have no reason bringing her into this either!" A yell breaks through clays voice as he raises a finger and points right in Gemma's face.

My face must utterly curdle in disgust as I watch because tig stifles a smirk himself. Gemma turns away from Clay to keep walking as she calls him an "Asshole!"

I stay leaning against the bonnet of Gemma's car as she continues walking toward Cara Cara's entrance, Clay raises a hand like he doesn't know what to say anger boiling deep in him.

I can see it in the way he turns around, his walk more sturdy, angrier than before, his shoulders tightening under his cut as he walks a few steps back.

I take my eyes off him for just a moment, just for a second to debate whether to follow Gemma when an explosive crack echoes beside me and her whole car shakes under my fucking ass. I almost give myself whiplash by the speed in which my head snaps toward Clay.

"Prick-" I'm cut off by the speed in which Gemma turns on him.

"You stupid piece of shit!" Suddenly she's rushing back towards us all fury and kicks the wheel of his bike so hard she almost falls over in the process. I watch like this is my newest source of reality tv, still leaning against her car as I dig through my pocket and find a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lifting it to my lips before finding my lighter and sparking.

Clay lets out a sound that might as well be a roar to some extent and starts punching the side of Gemma's car. And that, is what gets me up. I inhale my fag deep and walk over to Tig's bike where he's watching with almost the same level of amusement as me.

"That's just what those arthritic mitts need, a good pounding!" Gemma yells hand waving her handbag like she might just hit him with it.

"You wanna see a good pounding?" Clay grunts voice violent as he hits her car once more with a loud clunk and straightens so he's looking at her.

"Oh yeah, come on, Badass!" Gemma shouts almost like she's trying to push him off the fucking edge. She's one crazy bitch, I get what cherry meant now.

Another slam echoes through the car park as Gemma continues. Getting more agitated with each and every breath, "lay hands on me! I'll slit your god damn throat!"

She pushes him, fully. Hands to chest shoves him the fury and tension woven between them so deep I could slice the tension with a knife. What a loving relationship. She screams again, "you are pathetic!"

Then she storms back, expression more hurt this time. My brows draw in tight and I straighten and take a few steps debating following her. But Clay beats me to it, he rushes up behind her and grabs her handbag to yank her back.

A painful strangely small shriek echoes from her as soon as his hands lay on her, "don't you! Don't you touch me! Don't!"

Her voice sounds frailer now, still wrapped in fury as a blur of blonde hair rushes toward them... Jax, he stands close, stepping between Gemma and Clay like his body can mediate whatever the fuck this is.

Gemma stumbles back, further away from Clay but something in her expression shatters enough to even pull away from my own entertainment. A sob? It's small but it's there. She covers her face with her hands and turns away from Jax and Clay.

That has me throwing my fag on the floor and jogging over to her. I might be a bitch but I'm not that much of a bitch. I stop in front of her and she flinches just slightly as I touch her shoulder and try to guide her further away from Jax and Clay.