This is about the daughter of the Sons of Anarchy. How does she handle "the life"? She deals with her own life, meanwhile her mother pushes her to hold the title she currently holds. Read to find out about the one and only Rosalie Morrow.
~ book is...
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Rose frowned as Gemma pulled up to Luann's business, and cringed.
"Maybe I should've worked over-time.." Rose sighed as she watched them both get out of the car, leaving her to do the same.
Gemma shot at one of the posters a couple times, making each one close together. While they were doing that, Rose grabbed some tape and set up her own. Rose started to do the same but at a farther poster, choosing to aim at the girl's head and shooting at it proudly. Tara looked from the two, feeling a little out of place before aiming at the poster herself.
"Now squeeze slowly," Gemma started. "It'll have some kick."
Each shot Tara did missed the poster. Gemma shook her head as she put her gun down.
"You're grippin' too hard, you wanna hold it firm but let it breathe." Gemma continued to help Tara as Rose's mind wandered off elsewhere. Gemma had already told the same thing to Rose a couple years ago.
Back when things were simpler. She remembered when all the guys would come in with plastic wrap around their arms or legs, resembling the new ink. This made her think of the rose Clay had on his wrist.
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It was easy to forget about that when her mind was busy about who her father really was.
Rose looked back up seeing Tara shooting some more, before Rose started to shoot at some more posters.
It was time she finally took all her anger out on something. She aimed for the head again as always.
Boom.
That one was for her miscarriage.
Boom.
That one was for Vincent. She hated him but still loved him at the same time.
