Happy Lowman Imagines

Will You..? Part Two

The phone rang through to voicemail and Happy growled, throwing the phone against the wall.
Where is she? Happy thought as he paced around the room.
Three hours had passed since you had text him that you were on your way. Something was wrong.
You were never late, and if you were you knew to call first.
Wax slowly melted down the side of a candle, and the motion of Happy storming past blew out the flame.
He stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind him and headed for his bike.
The engine roared to life and Happy had barely put his helmet on before he sped out of the drive, a scowl on his face and worry in his heart.
He rode to your work fast, breaking every speed limit on the way there.
He pulled up outside and jumped off the bike, storming into the all-night diner.
He marched up to the counter, shaking with rage.
"Wheres (y/n)?" He growled at the woman behind the till.
She looked at him, puzzled and shook her head.
"Sh-she finished at five. She left then." The woman said, her voice shaky.
"Fuck!" Happy yelled and slammed his fists onto the bench, making the woman cower into herself.
He turned and stormed out the door, the bell ringing loudly as the door slammed shut behind him.
Happy practically ran down the street to the alley that lead to the carpark where you parked your car.
His feet knocked against empty bottles and the sound of bottles echoed through the empty alley.
He walked into the lot, spotting your car instantly and his heart sank.
He took another step and dropped his eyes.
He knelt to the ground and reached for your keys, lying on the ground in the middle of the deserted lot.
Rage boiled inside him as he realised his worse fear had come true.
Someone had taken you. Someone had taken you because of him, because of the club.
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Three days had gone by and Happy hadn't slept once. He still had no idea where you were, all of the clubs efforts of finding you were drying out. He didn't know who had taken you, but he swore he would kill every person that stood in the way of getting you back.
The whole club had been on edge. All the Sons loved you, and they were all worried.
Happy was a mess, and his rage was out of control.
They knew they needed to find you, and fast.
Juice spent all his time on his laptop, hacking into anything he could that could lead to you.
Pain ripped through your head, your eyes slammed tight at the impact and your head sagged forwards.
The only sound in the room was water dripping from a pipe and the sound of heavy footsteps pacing behind you.
A hand grasped your hair and pulled your head back, arching your neck to face him.
You felt blood in your mouth and you spat it at him.
His hand instantly hit your cheek and you felt your skin split and blood start to flow.
"Stupid bitch." The man growled, his voice laced heavily with a thick irish accent.
He walked around you and knelt in front of you. He placed one hand on your knee and reached the other out, lifting your chin to look at him.
You rubbed your hands against the ropes binding them behind your back.
The skin on your wrists stung but you ignored the pain, like you had been since you'd woken up and found yourself tied up three days ago.
The ropes were loose enough to get your hands out now, but you had to wait for the perfect moment.
"Its a real shame." The man in front of you said, stroking your swollen lips gently with his thumb.
You glared at him, your blood boiling.
You had been beaten for the last few days. Always the same, like clockwork. They didn't ask questions, they didn't really say anything. They would just come in, every few hours, and rough you up.
You didn't scream, you didn't cry. You took each hit, knowing that Happy would come for you, and they would deserve the long death the waited them.
"Your such a pretty girl (y/n)," The man spoke, his fingers tracing your cheeks. "Its a real shame that I have to kill you."
"Fuck you." You spat at him and he frowned, his hand still holding your face.
"Just one thing we have to do first. We need to ring your boyfriend."
Rage filled your throat and you growled at him, your body shaking with rage.
He smirked and pulled out his phone.
You watched him dial the number and he switched it to speaker mode, holding the phone between the both of you.
It rung twice before he picked up.
"Yeah?" His voice was raspy and hard, ripping at your heart as you heard the pain and stress as he spoke.
"Mr. Lowman. I have something you want." The man in front of you smirked and looked at you.
"Where is she?" Rage filled Happys voice and you could practically hear his jaw clenching.
"Shes fine. Tell him." The man ordered you but you held your tongue, poison brewing in your mouth as you glared at him.
Silence filled the line.
"(y/n)?" Your eyes began to well with tears at the sound of Happy saying your name and you heard the pain in is voice, the worry.
"Baby I'm okay." You said quietly, your voice shaky.
The Irish man smirked and pulled the phone back.
He began to speak but you blocked out the words, your mind was racing.
He began to turn his body as he spoke to Happy, making his demands.
This was your chance.
You slipped your hands out of the ropes quietly.
You watched as he slowly turned his back towards you.
You could hear Happy on the other line, anger laced in his voice.
You stood slowly, rolling your shoulders to release the muscles that had tensed from being held in the same position for three days.
You watched the man, his back towards you as he hissed orders into the phone.
You could hear Happy and fire burned inside you.
You ran and leapt forward, leaping onto your kidnappers back, driving him forward.
Your hands grabbed his head and you used the force from your jump to pull his head back and smash it into the wall in front of you.
His body fell to the ground and you hopped of his back, reaching for his gun instantly.
He had dropped the phone once you attacked him and you lifted it from the ground.
Happy was yelling into the phone, he could here the commotion and fear took over him.
"Babe!" Happy yelled into the phone, panic in his voice.
You lifted the phone to your mouth, catching your breath.
"Happy, its me. Im fine, come get me, please. I wanna go home." You said breathlessly, still gripping the gun tightly.
"What have you done little girl?" You could hear the smirk in his voice and you smiled too.
"Get Juice to track the phone. Hurry, Hap. Im tired." You told him and he agreed before hanging up the phone.
You slid the phone into your pocket and knelt next to the man on the ground.
You pressed to fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse.
His heart was beating slowly, in jagged beats and you looked at the gun in your hand, thankful it had a silencer.
You stood straight and pointed the gun to his head.
"Irish mother fucker." You said as you pulled the trigger three times, firing into his head.
You watched as blood pooled out around him and you stood there, blood splatters on your white jeans, a gun in your hands and your hair falling messily around your shoulders.
The door opened behind you and you turned instantly, the gun cocked.
He wasn't a Son and you pulled the trigger as soon as you didn't see a kutte
on his shoulders.
You stepped towards the lifeless body and sneered down at him.
You squeezed out the door and walked slowly around the house, pointing and shooting every Irish bastard that had beaten you for the last three days.
Happy rode down the dirt driveway, his heart in his throat as the Club rode behind him.
They pulled up in front of an old farm house.
It was quiet, and Happy had barely stopped his bike when he leapt off it, not bothering to put the stand out and the bike fell to the ground.
His brothers stopped too and got off their bikes, guns in their hands as they moved slowly towards the house.
The door of the house opened slowly and Happys eyes flickered to the movement, his gun following.
You stood in the doorway, hands by your side, covered in the blood of the men that had kidnapped you.
Happy looked at you, a smirk spreading across his face.
You were a goddess.
Your face was bruised and swollen, but you had a bored expression on your face, a gun in your hands, and your white jeans were stained red with the blood of his enemies, and blood was splattered over your shirt and your skin.
Your hair floated around your shoulders as you walked down the steps.
Happy ran to you and you ran to meet him, leaping into his arms and pressing your swollen lips to his.
His hands wrapped around you, holding you against his body as he kissed you deeply.
You pulled away from him, smiling at the relief in his eyes.
"Marry me." Happy said, his voice low and raspy, filled with passion and love.
You stared into his dark eyes and saw the adoration in them.
"Yes! Happy, Yes!" You squealed and kissed him deeply.
The brothers watched, smiles on their faces as they watched you both kissing desperately, just two killers, covered in blood, and in love.