The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most - An SOA Fan Fiction

Chatper 9

*Possible domestic abuse trigger. No graphic descriptions though.*

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After the waitress had dropped their drinks off and took their orders they were alone again. Amelia toyed with the end of her straw, her eyes locked on his. "So, what about your hair?"

"What about it?" Scratching at his Mohawk, Juice shrugged, unsure of what she could mean. He loved his hair. "I don't know, I just kind of did it one day and liked it."

"Hmm, okay."

"What?"

"Nothing." She giggled and sipped her drink. "Oh this is good, try it."

His cheeks puckered, it was so sweet Juice could feel a strange tingle in the back of his mouth. "Jesus, what is it?"

"Pineapple juice and vanilla vodka, it's delicious. I'm a girl drink drunk, but I can still shoot whiskey with the rest of you, so don't get it twisted. I was raised SAMCRO, after all."

Getting Amelia drunk, or even buzzed, was not Juice's intention, or hers really. The drinks went down easily and she was having such a good time with him everything just kept flowing. It would help though, she had planned on telling him most, if not all, of her story once they got back. When she stood, wobbling slightly on her feet, Juice felt awful. He should have been paying more attention, he hadn't even realized she was drinking so quickly. The club lived on a constant stream of whiskey and coffee, usually they saved water for workouts, so it seemed normal enough.

"Shit, you're drunk." He tossed a wad of cash on the table and grabbed her waist before she could trip down the small step from their booth. "Meels, are you okay?"

"I'm good." She only slurred a little and Juice felt less concerned as he saw she wasn't exactly as bad as he thought. With a firm arm around her waist, he walked her out to the parking lot. Giggling into Juice's neck, Amelia had no idea what her hot breath on his skin was doing to the poor guy. If she ever asked, and he was honest, he didn't know either. "Are you worried I'll let go of you on the highway and roll into traffic?"

"That's not funny, Amelia." Juice was stern, he didn't like the joke, the idea was horrific even if it wasn't her. "You'll be okay, right?"

She cleared her throat and tried to calm her laughter with a stern expression. "I am totally okay, really."

Juice spent half the ride holding her hands on his stomach, her grip was solid but he couldn't shake the paranoia. They were waiting at a light on Main Street, a few blocks from Tig's when she shouted over his engine. "I don't want to go home, can we go to your place?" He didn't answer, just took the next left instead of the right and she knew where they were going.

The house was tiny and it didn't look all that special on the outside but when he let her in, his hand on her lower back, she was awed by the décor and numerous updates. "Your house is gorgeous." Her fingers dawdled over the mantelpiece as she looked around.

"Thanks." Casual, he always tried to keep cool even though inside he was a livewire.

She threw herself down on the couch, her stomach churning from nerves rather than all the vodka, while he grabbed her a water and one for himself so she couldn't object. When he walked back into the living room she had taken her shoes off and was sitting cross-legged, her back against the arm of the sofa.

"Hi," suddenly she was shy again. "Thank you for today, it was...exceptional."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, you deserve it." Now, while alone, those sweet words felt much larger than before. Amelia kept her eyes on her bare feet, her toes wiggling just to keep her attention on something other than his piercing gaze. "You don't have to talk about it, I don't want to ruin the day."