The Life of a Biker's Daughter

Welcome Home

I open the creaky fence door, that I thankfully still have a key to, to see the Teller-Morrow Body Shop. The auto repair shop seems dull at two in the morning, but during the day there isn't a second of silence. Between The Son's motorcycles coming and going, the body shop workers hollering at the crow eaters as they are walking by shaking their hips, and of course Gemma always running about keeping the place in order, the clubhouse is an orchestra of loud noises.

Damn, I have truly missed this place.

My knee-high, black boots squeak against the slightly dampened concrete. It had been off and on raining the whole drive, from Las Vegas to Charming. I may love the rain, but people drive like idiots in it. There is a difference in driving cautiously and driving like a dumbass, but the people on the highway around didn't seem to know that.

There isn't a motorcycle in sight, meaning tonight I will have the whole back apartment part of the clubhouse to myself. Unlocking the clubhouse door, I let out a yawn. I am about to crash real hard after I strip out of these clothes.

The familiar smell of cigarettes and booze linger in the air, and looking around I notice the place hasn't changed. Without a second thought, I pass by the bar/pool table area and make my way to the back hallway.

Gemma and I used to help spruce the place up after parties, and come the next day it would be a dirty mess again. We cleaned up after every event as if one day those boys would keep it that way, never happened.

I laugh at the memories while swinging the door to the back apartment open. This place was more of a home to me my senior year of high school than my actual home. Jax and I would get drunk and pass out back here, because I knew if I went home my mom would be pissed. Then she would yell at my dad for raising such a 'terrible daughter'.

"Darlin', Piney is not going to be happy if I don't get you home," Jax says to me as he pulls me toward his bike, a smirk pulling at his lips.

I take a sip of the beer in my free hand, keeping myself from bursting out in laughter. Jax can attempt to take me home all he wants, but there is no way I am actually going home. "I think he would rather me cause trouble here than be a pain in the ass for my mother at home.  C'mon, don't be a mood killer, Jax."

Jax stops walking, giving up on trying to get me on the back of his motorcycle. He runs his fingers through his long blonde hair, shaking his head at me. We both know he can't say no to me, almost no one can. They could certainly try, but I end up doing what I want in the end, regardless of what other people tell me to do. Giving him my famous smirk, the one I give most people before I cause trouble, I start walking back to the clubhouse.

"No problems tonight, Cas," He warns with a chuckle. Silly Jax, trouble is my middle name.

&&&&&&&&&

"Alright, darlin' you have had enough," Jax insists, taking the shot Chibs poured me.

"Ughhh why do you always have to get in the way of my funnnn? Chibs and I was...I mean were talking about...what were we talking about?" I ask, signaling for my favorite Irish man to get me another drink.

Jax rolls his eyes at me and picks me up off the stool I am sitting on. Throwing me over his shoulder, the Teller boy walks me away from the bar.

Chibs laughs at me as I pound my fists on Jax's back. "Jackie boy, ya take care of my crazy little gurl, ya hear!"

I blow Chibs a kiss before we enter the back hallway, out of sight.

"Here we are darlin'." Jax sets me on the bed gently and starts pulling my shoes off.

"Jax don't leave tonight. Okay?" I whisper to him. When my last shoe is off, I crawl to the top of the bed and get under the covers.

Jax pulls his SAMCRO t-shirt off and throws it my way. I love sleeping in his shirts, they smell amazing and are comfier than any pj's I have ever owned. I pull my black tank top off and replace it with his t-shirt. My jean shorts come off next, not even caring that Jax is standing right next to the bed.

"Really, Cas?" Jax turns his back to me, sliding his jeans off.

"Calmmm down, it's not like I don't have panties on." I giggle, slightly blushing at him when he turns to look at me. The fact he is shirtless, and in immaculate shape doesn't help the deepening color of my cheeks.

I snuggle into the covers, laying my head on the nearest pillow. My blue eyes never leave him as he takes the spot in bed next to me.

Jax Teller is my best friend. When I do stupid things, he somehow gets me out of them. Every time I need saving from the police or my drunk self he is there in a heartbeat.

"Nighty night, pretty boy." Jax rolls his eyes at my nickname for him. It's hard not to call him that when every girl drools over him. He is like Prince Charming of this town.

"Goodnight, darlin."

I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

I open the top drawer to the dresser next to the bed and see it is full of worn SAMCRO t-shirts. I bring one up to my nose, inhaling the familiar scent of Jax Teller. The guys have rooms of their own, and this back apartment is typically left open for me, or another female guest who isn't sleeping with one of the boys. But, it seems Jax made himself at home after I left for college.

Quickly I slither out of my clothes and into the t-shirt. The exhaustion from the journey has worn me down. I am ready to sleep until tomorrow. Watch out Charming, Crazy Casey is back.