33 parte Ongoing MatureThe rumble of motorcycles was the soundtrack to my childhood. The smell of oil, leather, and cigarette smoke clung to my clothes like a second skin. I was born into the life-Brighton Carter, daughter of Samcro's own Benny "Red" Carter. My dad was one of them, a lifer, a soldier in the club. He lived and breathed for the Sons of Anarchy.
And he died for them too.
A drive-by shooting took him when I was just thirteen. I remember the blood, the chaos, the way Jax held me as I screamed, my tiny fists pounding against his cut, demanding answers no one could give. My dad was gone. But Jax? He never left my side.
Jax Teller and Opie Winston were my best friends, my safe place in a world that had already been so cruel. Jax, with his cocky smirk and messy blond hair, had always been the one to pull me out of the darkness, even when he was the cause of it.
At sixteen, that darkness turned to something else-a craving I couldn't deny.
We were drunk, reckless, and stupid. But damn, was it sweet. Jax had been my first everything that night, whispering promises in my ear between lazy kisses, his touch setting my body on fire. But promises meant nothing in Charming. I learned that the hard way.
When I found out I was pregnant, I ran. I packed a bag, left a note, and vanished. I couldn't stay. Not when I knew what this life would do to my kid.
Now, at twenty-three, I was back.
I wasn't that naïve girl anymore.
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