An ill mouthed girl with a fiery temper and bad attitude comes across a blonde headed stranger in her bed whilst covered in something strange. His friends are just like brothers and family soon becomes a tight nation to them all as Sloan grows close...
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Sloan
It was uncomfortably silent as we sped through the roads, myself dazed and infuriated with not only Peter but Francis as well. He always was the kind of man to go around asking for a fight, and I'd simply learned to ignore it. "I'm so sorry." I apologised, voice rough and quiet. My eyes began to well up... I just wanted to cry. To sit down with a pack of cigarettes and a few bottles of my favourite whisky and cry until my eyes stung. But I glanced up and the moisture slowly disappeared; I'd do it another day. When I was alone.
"Where'd you get the gun?" Slash questioned, pulling it out. I sighed, rubbing my hand down my face in aggravation and shrugged.
"Peter." I mumbled. "Just before I ran away."
"You ran away?" Steven asked, sipping on a bottle of cheap brown beer.
I nodded my head. "When I was fifteen." I'd been on my own now for six years.
"And how old are you now?" Izzy asked, finally piping up after staring out of the window absentmindedly.
"Twenty-one." I responded. He blew out a breath, mumbling something along the lines of 'that's rough' and borrowing the bottle from Steven, handing it back after necking the majority of the continence. "So where's the next stop?" I questioned, glancing through the rear-view mirror at the four boys piled close together who shared a look of nonchalance. Rolling my eyes, I turned to Slash in question. "Anywhere you fancy?"
"Why don't we stop off for the night?" He'd sobered up since the whole incident. "Do any of y'all have enough cash to spend the night in a motel?"
"I've got forty bucks." Izzy offered.
"Twenty." Axl continued. We all looked toward Steven who simply shook his head and pointed to the eight bottles of beer scattered upon the floor. We glanced toward Slash and he rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a few coins, a condom, and a five-dollar-bill. I raised an eyebrow and smirked lightly as he chuckled and slid the packet back into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. "Five 'n' thirty two cents."
"Put it together." I ordered, taking the money and counting it up. "Sixty-five, thirty-two. That should be enough, shouldn't it?"
Izzy groaned lightly. "It's seventy dollars." He said.
"For one shitty night?" I gaped. "That's tough."
Slash scoffed and looked toward Izzy as though he were crazy. "Iz, we're in the middle of nowhere. The most it'll be is forty dollars." Izzy shrugged disbelievingly and turned to face out of the window, blocking out the rest of the world with Stevens bottle now wrapped between his fist.
"It doesn't matter anyway, man." Duff said. "If the receptionist's a chic, I've got us covered. If it's a dude, we've got you, Sloan." I raised an eyebrow, I wasn't a prostitute. There was no way I'd comply to it.
