' "You look..." "Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?" '
Amidst the shadows of the little town of Charming, this chaotic and dangerous scene steps in Giselle Telford, a woman dead set on escaping the shadows of her past to embrace an uncertain future...
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After spending a couple of hours digging up info with them—and grabbing some lunch in the process—
Frank offers to drive her to the club, parking right in front of the clubhouse garage.
Before they go in, Giselle stops and turns to him, her face serious, looking for reassurance about their plan.
"So, you're sure Hale's got something to do with this?" she asks, her voice low.
Frank gives her one of his signature smirks—a mix of confidence and challenge. "Damn right I am. That guy would team up with the devil himself if it meant taking down the Sons. You said it yourself—look at the mess he pulled with Stahl."
Giselle nods, cracking her neck like she's trying to shake off the weight of her thoughts.
Changing the subject, Frank glances at her with a curious gleam in his eyes. "Hey, by the way, I wanna see this bike you're always talking about."
She raises an eyebrow, a little surprised, but shrugs. "Sure. Not much to see, though," she says as she leads him to a corner of the garage. "I started working on fixing it up, but... haven't touched it in a while."
Frank follows, taking in every detail of the space with interest. When the bike finally comes into view, he quirks a brow. It's a wreck—but one of those wrecks with a story behind it.
"This is the legendary bike, huh?" he asks, stepping closer. "So why keep it if you're not riding it?"
Giselle crosses her arms, shooting him a side-eye. "Because it's sentimental."
Frank chuckles, a low, sarcastic sound. "Sentimental, huh? You know once you're done fixing it, the only thing left from the original is gonna be the seat, right?"
She gives him an unimpressed look, then cracks a faint smile. "You're such a pleasure, you know that?"
Their conversation is cut short by the sound of a bike roaring closer. Giselle turns toward the entrance, her expression shifting instantly. Jax pulls up, and he's not alone. On the back of his bike is that bitch. That blonde from this morning.
"What the fuck," Giselle mutters under her breath, her fists clenching.
Frank doesn't say a word, just watches the scene unfold. His eyes dart from Jax to the woman clinging to him, then back to Giselle. It's not hard to figure out what's going through her mind.
Leaning against a table nearby, Frank folds his arms, silently amused.
Giselle keeps watching until the blonde a kissed Jax.
Her jaw tightens "I'm gonna kill him," she murmurs.
"I don't think it's totally Jax's fault," Frank chimes in casually. "These chicks think he's a free dick"
Giselle rolls her eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't get stuck. "With everything else going on, now I've gotta deal with this bullshit too?" she scoffs, throwing her head back in frustration.
