Stay

Stay - Chapter 2

Round and around and around and around we go
Oh now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know.

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you.
It takes me all the way.
I want you to stay

Adriana's POV:

Just like most nights at the SAMCRO clubhouse, the party was in full swing. Loud metal music blasted from the stereo speakers. A few scantily clad girls were dancing on the bar, with a chorus of raucous laughter and catcalls coming from the men who ogled them. Croweaters worked the room, each one flitting about from biker to biker, all eagerly vying for a chance to end up in a back room with a SAMCRO member. I viewed this crazy scene from my spot on the leather couch as I slowly sank further down into the corner. My wish at that moment was to be swallowed up and become a part of the furniture so I could remain there, unnoticed and off the radar from the rest of the world.

My nerves were still jangling, and I tapped my foot on the floor in front of me. Gradually the anxiety eased up and I began to calm down. I nursed my beer, watching Tig, Koz, Juice and Happy play pool. I became fixated on how Happy's sinewy arms flexed and repositioned as he took shot after shot. He worked the table like a big cat, smooth and stealth like. His movements were fluid and purposeful, never faltering or expending too much energy. The more I studied him, the more surprised I became by how graceful he was for a man of his size. Knowing his role within the club based on the rumors I heard, I could only assume his effortless moves served the club well.

Gemma plopped down next to me, startling me from my trance, but I was grateful for the distraction. My fascination with Happy Lowman was not something I completely understood, and I silently scolded myself each time I realized I had been staring at him.

"Did you eat lunch today like I told you?" Gemma brushed a warm hand gently across my cheek.

I held up the bottle of beer, gave it a little shake and smiled awkwardly.

"Ade, this isn't good for you, sweetheart. You're barely eating lately and you're drinking more than my old man. You've got to start taking better care of yourself."

"Yes, Mom," I smiled sweetly, trying to sound sincere. She really did care about me and I was grateful for everything she did. If it wasn't for Gemma, I'd be out on the street with no job. I had been thrown out of my apartment by my bastard of an ex-boyfriend after he knocked me around one night. I had nothing except for my car, the clothes on my back and a black eye. I was afraid to even set foot back at our place to get my stuff for fear of what was waiting for me if I returned there. That night, I parked my car on the quietest street I could find and slept there for the next three nights. I drove into town during the day, scrounging food where I could, washing up in gas station bathrooms.

On the fourth night when I went to park the car, it became clear that I had been camping out next to the home of Clay and Gemma Morrow. Gemma had noticed my car two nights prior and had been watching me come and go. When I arrived back that last time, she knocked on my window, gun in hand, demanding answers. I was scared shitless and pissed off at myself for picking a spot right next to where a crazy, gun-toting biker's old lady lived. But once I told her my story, and the reason why I had been sleeping in my car, Gemma softened up and immediately ushered me into her home. She made me take a shower, gave me clean clothes and fed me. She offered me a job in the T&M office and after staying with her and Clay for a few weeks, I was able to get my own apartment near the garage, with Gemma fronting me enough money for the security deposit and some used furniture.

That was six months ago. Ever since that time, I had been working at T&M during the day and drinking with the SAMCRO boys at night. If I wasn't in the clubhouse, I'd be at the bar down the block from my apartment building, drinking until I could barely stagger home, sometimes taking random men home with me just because I didn't want to be alone. My life sucked. I had a void inside of me and I didn't know how to fill it. In the beginning, the booze numbed me enough so I could ignore the pain. But now even that wasn't working. Sometimes a warm body in my bed helped me forget for a short time, but once I woke up the next morning, my own little hell would begin all over again.

I was busy chewing my fingernails down to the quick as I pretended to listen to Gemma worrying about me. I nodded in all the right places, but my mind was elsewhere. Without even looking up I sensed that Happy was staring at me again. It was some sort of twisted game he and I had played these past few months. Never speaking, just watching each other. But with Happy, it was more than just being watched. I felt hunted by him.

I turned and gave Gemma a smile, mumbled something about using the bathroom, and snuck out the back door that led to the alleyway behind the office. Sometimes when my anxiety got too bad and I needed to be alone, I hid out there. There were a bunch of wooden pallets that I managed to stack together so I had a place to sit. I silently cursed myself for not snatching a bottle from the bar, or at the very least another beer, on my way out. I checked my pockets but my pack of cigs was gone and I remembered placing them on the table by the couch when I sat down. The sky above me was dark and the stars seemed so close that it looked like I could reach up and grab one. But instead of being able to enjoy the beauty of it, it just felt claustrophobic. Another thing closing in on me. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rocked myself back and forth, trying to fight back the tears.

xxx