Forced by her mother to be a burlesque dancer at her club in LA was something Brooklyn hated. She wanted to break free from the disgusting looks strange men would give her whenever she got on stage. Brooklyn was blessed with an incredible singing vo...
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"This needs to get done." Helen told the two men standing in front of her.
"Yeah? What's in it for us, lady?" The more intimidating one, Helen didn't care enough to learn the name of, asked.
Helen turned her head to him before looking back at her friend. "Who the hell is this guy?" She asked, annoyed, pointing her thumb at the man.
"AJ Weston, Helen." Zobelle informed her.
Helen, faced Weston again, a condescending smile on her face. "Ah, yes. The skinhead who thinks the world should be pale." She said, as Weston glared at her.
"Yes, he will be fulfilling the task at hand." Zobelle told her with a sigh.
"Well then, a large chunk of money will be what's in it for you, Weston, but if you so much as touch my daughter, I will rip your throat out." Helen told him, angrily.
AJ smirked at her. "Why shouldn't I? Might make you show a little bit of respect."
"If anything happens to my daughter, she will crawl back to that cretin of a man and I need her in LA, but if something happens to someone she's close with, she'll run right back to me." Helen explained.
Weston only continued to stare at her.
"And the only thing I will be showing you is your balls in your face as you bleed out if you touch her." She continued as she walked toward him threateningly.
"Now, now, there is no need for such violent talk. The job will get done, Helen." Ethan said, stepping between the two.
Helen glared at Weston before she spoke again.
"Get it done and leave, because there is nothing I hate more than a racist."
Zobelle and Weston watched as she made her way out of the cigar shop, just as The Sons of Anarchy themselves pulled up.
"What the hell are you doing here, lady?" Jax asked as he stormed up to Helen, Opie grabbing his arm to hold him back.
Helen took a step back as she chuckled. "What can I say, I'm a fan of a good cigar now and then." She said putting her hands up.
"Get out of here, Helen. Don't let us see you again." Clay demanded.
Helen looked toward the motorcycles before turning back to Jax.
"Where's Brooklyn? It's not like her to be cooped up on such a beautiful day." She questioned.
Jax started breathing heavily as his anger spiked. "Don't talk like you know anything about her." He growled.
Helen glared at him. "You think you know her better than I do?" She growled back.
"Oh, I know I do, lady. You don't even know where she is, but let me inform you. Right now, she's laying in bed, with nothing- and I do mean nothing- but my shirt on. Or maybe she's getting the house ready for our son to come home tonight. I haven't been home in a while so it can be either of the two." Jax smirked.
