8

"

Chapter 1 Enough is Too Much

Ava Becker walked into the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse. Her father would have a stroke if he could see her. He wanted to move her to a town in the middle of no where as punishment for trashing a few houses during some out of control parties, that was just fine. She'd show him she could get into more trouble in Charming. What could put fear into a father's heart more than knowing his darling daughter was partying with an outlaw biker club?

"Who do I give these to?" she yelled holding up a bottle of Glenlivet 25 year single malt Scotch in one hand and a bottle of Patron in the other that she'd taken from her father's well stocked bar. Well stocked or not, it wouldn't be long before her father noticed she'd taken some of his most expensive liquor.

"I'll take those from you, darlin'," a man with a Scots accent said taking the bottles from her hands.

She looked him over. He was average height, dirty dark hair with a bit of gray in it, a scruffy beard and dark eyes. His most striking feature were two curved scars running from the middle of each cheek down to the outer corners of his mouth. She didn't know if that had been so strange Scots ritual or if he'd just pissed some people off. She didn't see herself sleeping with him.

"My name's Ava," she said.

"I'm Chibs. You new in town?"

"My father and I moved to town. We live in the Castle."

"Castle?"

"It looks like a castle. It's on a hill on Castle road."

"Hale's Folly we call it around here. Hale's a local developer. Built this big castle looking thing that no one around here wanted. It's been vacant for years."

"Well, it's not vacant any more. I'm there all by my lonesome because my father's out of town."

"This is Juice," Chibs said pointing.

He desperately needed a stylist to sort out his bi-polar hair. His dark hair what little there was of it was in a kind of Mohawk only the hair strip was closely shaved. The shaved sides had tattoos. He had nice smooth skin, no facial hair and dark eyes. Not bad, but not great.

"This is Bobby also known as Bobby Elvis," Chibs continued.

He fit her picture of a biker. He was tall, heavy with long curly hair and a beard. A little teddy bearish, but looked like he could use a good scrubbing. No way was she sleeping with him. Not even blindfolded and drunk.

"I do a fat Elvis act," Bobby said.

"I never would have guessed that."

"I'm Tig," another man said.

He had brown hair and bright blue eyes. There was something about him that just wasn't quite right. She'd learned to trust her gut. Next.

"This is Happy."

He just gave her a look.

Physically he was more to her liking. He was average height, tight muscular body, shaved tattooed head, nice even features, but this guy rang all her alarm bells. There was something cold and dark going on in his eyes. He might just be perfect.

Just then she turned and saw all the mug shots on the wall. One drew her attention. The guy was handsome, blonde hair with piercing blue eyes. He was just her type.

"Where's he?" she asked pointing at his picture.

"That's Jax. Fucking cops set him up. He got twenty years in prison," Chibs said.

"Fucking cops," Ava said. This was the problem with the criminal justice system. It didn't matter what the guy did, he was too fine to rot behind bars.

"You guys want to come see the castle and party?"

"What about the crow-eaters?" Chibs asked jerking a thumb in the directions of three women in jeans and tank tops.

"Bring'em. The more the better. Who wants to drive my Ferrari? I want to ride on the back of a bike."

Two of the crow-eaters volunteered to drive Ava's custom painted pearl white Ferrari to the castle. The other crow-eater was going to ride with Bobby.

"How about you giving me a ride?" she suggested to Happy.

"OK."

"Why do they call you Happy?" she asked.

The men exchanged looks.

Happy lifted up his shirt and showed Ava his finely chiseled abs and tattoos including some Happy face tattoos.

"I get it," she said.

He handed her his bike helmet.

"I want to feel the wind in my hair," Ava said.

He gave her another look and took the helmet from her. Silently he put the helmet on his head and tightened the chin strap. Before they left, she snapped some selfies of her on the bike and posted them to all her social media accounts.

Hale's Folly or the Castle was located at the top of a curved road. Ava loved riding on the bike. It was the most power she'd ever had between her legs. She grinned at the thought. Holding on to the biker was also its own version of fun.

She wondered how many people the guy killed. He just had that look in his eyes not that she would know about things like that. She imagined that's the way a killer's eyes would look. She'd seen a lot of TV interviews with serial killers.

It suddenly occurred to her that his eyes reminded her of Richard Ramirez's eyes from a documentary she'd watched on The Night Stalker. No way was she sleeping with him ever. She didn't mind risks, but sleeping with a guy with serial killer eyes was beyond a risk she was willing to take. Letting her father think she'd slept with him would have the same impact without the danger.

They arrived with lots of noise. She watched as the lights on the top floor of the castle turned on. She could even seen the blinds move as Jeeves peeked out. He'd soon rat her out to her father, and what he missed, she'd post on all her social media accounts.

Jeeves had been with her father since she was six and her junkie mother died of an overdose. Her father had nicknamed him Jeeves from some character in some books by P.G. Wodehouse. He was always pulling his employer Bertie Wooster out of the craziest predicaments.

He'd helped her out of some dilemmas even concealing some early car damage from some youthful bad driving, but the last six or seven years he'd taken to telling her father on her. She couldn't trust him anymore. She missed having him in her life as an ally and friend.

Outside the castle looked like a smaller scale less grand version of the castle at Disneyland. It was painted a pale gray lit by white lights giving it a very dramatic look. Each corner had a turret and there were a few more in the middle. It was an architectural nightmare. Hale's Folly was a fitting name, Ava thought.

Ava got off the bike and walked to the front doors and waited for everyone.

"Your keys," a short brunette said handing her the keys. "My name's Wanda."

"How'd you like driving the car?" Ava asked.

"Great. The side was already scraped when I got it," Wanda said.

"I know. Don't worry about it."

"My name's June," a freckled faced blonde said.

"So what's a crow-eater?" Ava asked.

"What do you think it is?" the third woman came over to join them. She was also a blonde and at least ten years older than Wanda and June.

"I'm new in town."

"My name's Beth. You have a lot to learn. The MC is an outlaw MC. It's called SAMCRO for Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Originals. Do I really need to explain crow-eater now?"

"I got it," Ava said.

The men joined them and Ava led them into the house. Her father had sent a team of decorators to do the house. As usual, he didn't ask her if she had any ideas. She didn't even get a say in how her bedroom was decorated.

The house was too gothic for her tastes done in deep dark colors There were heavy forest green drapes, dark wood floors with Oriental carpets, big heavy furniture and ornate light fixtures. It felt like they'd stepped back in time.

"This place does look like a castle inside," Chibs said.

"Yeah, it's enough to give me nightmares. I keep expecting to see a ghost or vampire," Ava said.

She led them down a long winding hall to the back of the house.

"Help yourself to anything you want to drink in the bar. The fridge here has soft drinks and cherries, lemons and other drink stuff."

"What can I get you?" Chibs asked moving behind the bar.

"Tequila shots for everyone!" Ava shouted.

She went to her father's fancy pretend jukebox and put in her playlist. Every night followed a pattern. Tonight was new because this was the first time she'd had guests over. It would soon follow her usual routine, get drunk, get loud and have as much as fun she could squeeze out of the evening.

There were two pool tables. She took turns playing pool with all the guys while the crow-eaters took turns hanging all over the guys. There wasn't much to show for her party.

She thought the bikers would be more destructive. Outside of a couple of broken glasses thanks to the crow-eaters, nothing had gotten broken. She just might have to trash the room herself after they left. Who the hell could have imagined outlaw bikers being so well behaved?

She took a few selfies with Happy that would lead her father to believe that she'd had sex with him. Happy wasn't any the wiser. He was pretty drunk. They all were drunk including her.

"Everyone stay over," Ava said. They were all too drunk to drive and that was one of the few rules of her father's that she obeyed—don't let drunk people drive. He'd given her the math behind the rule—they could get sued for a ton of money and that would be money she wouldn't inherit.

Juice and Wanda had already passed out on one of the big kidney colored leather sofas. Happy was under one of the pool tables. Beth was asleep draped over the top of a passed out Bobby on one of the pool tables. Tig was sleeping on top of June. Chibs was passed out on top of the bar, a bottle of Scotch in his hand. She went over and took the bottle out of his hand. She didn't care about the damage it did, but people could get hit with glass if the bottle shattered.

She decided to sleep downstairs with her guests so she could trash the room as soon as they left. She didn't want Jeeves to find the house in a messy but damage free state. That would be a win for her father. She'd never get out of Charming if her father succeeded in taming her behavior. She decided to curl up near Happy and take a couple of selfies.

The next morning, everyone left early. The guys invited her to party at the clubhouse next Friday night and she accepted their invitation. Once they were gone, she got busy. She ripped the hated green velvet curtains, knocked over a couple of big ornate wrought iron candlesticks that were sitting on the floor. She ripped the felt on the pool table, tossed a couple of pool balls through a window and threw a bunch of glasses at the pretentious imported black marble fireplace. The decorators ought to be sued for malpractice.

She gargled with tequila and spit it on the floor before taking pictures of her handiwork. Her parties usually had far worse results, but it wasn't a bad start. She hoped like hell this would show her father that Charming wasn't the answer and they should go somewhere more civilized or maybe he would give her an allowance so she could move out and live where ever she liked.

She heard her father's Rolls drive up and watched him get out of his car. His face was already flushed with anger. She was sure Jeeves had already ratted her out.

Her father walked immediately into his study to see first hand what damage had been done to the house. He looked around and shaking his head. What really made it bad was he knew thanks to Jeeves that his daughter's guests hadn't damaged the house, it was his own daughter who had trashed the room.

Enough is too much. He should have done something about his daughter's behavior long before now. It was past time to do something. He had an idea. A smile spread across his face and he called his lawyer.

"