Allison Trager slowly opened her eyes and lazily turned her morning alarm off. It was only the second week of the second semester and she could barely bring herself to leave her bed.

She turned her head towards the window that was allowing delicate morning rays of light through the curtains.

She saw a bird zip by.

Sighing, Ally counted to twenty and hoisted herself out of bed. The first bell would ring in less than half an hour. Dressing quickly in her normal school clothes of worn jeans, tank and an old button down of her father's, she quickly raked some product into her long, curly, dark hair to subdue the untamable fly aways.

At seventeen, she had a typical teenage girl body. Her waist was trim, but soft. Her skin was clear with a faint olive undertone that kept her from using precious morning moments on makeup while her hair fell in a thick curtain halfway down her back. Her tits were high and perky and perfectly sized, much to her father's public dismay and secret pride.

Ally leaned into the mirror as she brushed her teeth and ran a finger over a faint bump under the flat mole that rested right above her left jawline. She had been told the proper name for the mole was 'beauty mark,' but Ally didn't put too much stock into that.

One final glance in the mirror later, she grabbed her tattered canvas backpack that was covered in marker doodles, patches and pins and slung it over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen. There was no sign that her dad had been there all night save for the freshly brewed pot of coffee waiting for her and $50 on the fridge held up with a 'Kick Ass Today' magnet.

Her dad was rarely at the house when she was; save for late at night when she was asleep. Alexander 'Tig' Trager was the Sergeant at Arms for Sons of Anarchy, a motorcycle club, and spent many a day and night on 'club business,' which she had known from a young age not to ask too many questions about.

Even though she worked as a receptionist at the garage where he was a mechanic at after school and on weekends to make her own money, Tig still liked to take care of her and made sure she at least had a weekly allowance to help cover gas and miscellaneous things.

Ally pocketed the cash and grabbed the keys to her dad's old truck, which was unofficially hers to use to get to and from school and such. After she had gotten her license and Tig had deemed her responsible enough to be on the road on her own, he snatched the radio out. He believed it was too big a distraction and wanted her to concentrate on driving and not music or trying to find a song or station.

He would allegedly let her have a radio in the vehicle on her eighteenth birthday; which wasn't until March. Until then, her morning commute was deathly quiet.

Charming High School was only about ten minutes away from her house and Ally was all ready running a few minutes behind. She didn't rush, though. The less time she had to spend there, the better.

She got out of her truck and got to the bottom of the stairs leading up into the school as the tardy bell rang. She trudged into her first class of the day where the teacher had just finished taking roll.

"Tardy again Miss Trager," Mr. Martin, her Senior English teacher, commented as Ally took her seat. "That's the second time this semester. Three tardies earn you two days of detention, you know."

"I'm aware," she murmured more to herself than anything as she took her seat. Normally, she would take residence in the back corner closest to the door in classes. However, Mr. Martin was sadistic and insisted his students sit in alphabetical order. That placed her behind Blair Samson, in front of Keith Turner and next to Carrie Prentiss.

The trifecta of unholy hell.

Keith kicked her bag, sending it up several desks while Mr. Martin had his back turned.

"Don't be a dick," Ally snapped over her shoulder at him.

"Don't be afraid to take a shower, trash," Keith's girlfriend Blair snipped, her judgy brown eyes raking over Ally's average looks. "Or did daddy not kill enough people to pay the water bill?" She continued in a mock baby voice.

Ally's fist curled into a ball. "Fuck you, you stupid gash."

"Allison! Language!" Mr. Martin stopped writing on the board to stare at the teen, who had started to rise out of her seat. "I expect you to sit in that chair and not make another sound. If I hear so much as a peep out of you, I will give you detention for the rest of the week."

Blair snorted and Ally could clearly see her shoulder shaking in silent laughter. Ally dared glance over at Carrie to see her staring straight ahead, not even giving her a second look, save for the smug smirk on her lips.

Whenever Ally looked at Carrie, she still saw the overweight, sweaty girl she used to have sleepovers with. Not the slim, svelte, cheerleading BFF of Blair. Even though the desolation of their friendship occurred right before Summer break when the last of her weight melted away and she made the cheer squad, it still stung to see her.

Time at school always passed by in a slow blur. Not one person spoke to Ally after the confrontation in English until it was time for gym. Not even the teachers. After a joke of a volleyball game, Ally was slipping her tank back on when an all too familiar voice wafted through the locker room.

"Look out. Trager-Troll is in the house." Blair giggled as her cheerleaders came in to change for their mandatory practice, Carrie in tow. "Be sure to protect your boobs. Don't want to turn the troll on."

Ally rolled her eyes and shrugged her plaid shirt back on. "Seriously Blair? That's all you got?" She turned to face her. "Calling me a troll and a lesbian. That's it? Bravo. Your creativity knows no bounds." She slow clapped before snatching her backpack and brushing past them.

"Whatever grease trash," she heard Blair mutter as she left the locker room. She wanted to punch Blair.

She always wanted to punch Blair.

Or anybody.

She knew how to throw a punch. When she got her first period at thirteen, that seemed to be the dawning moment when Tig truly realized she was a girl and not one that was going to stay little forever. After that, he had made a point to teach her to box and started taking her to Lumpy's Gym downtown so she could learn to take an aggressive asshole down.

However, he also made her promise not to start a fight at school. If one was started with her, then by all means, finish it; but never start one. All he ever asked of her was that she graduate from high school without getting pregnant, flunking or getting expelled. A few weeks into the semester and Ally was seriously considering throwing her dad's request into the wind.

School had been so much easier for the boys of the club, Jax and Opie. They were legacies of the club and practically had the damn patch on their backs since the time they could balance on a two wheeler. Guys wanted to hang out with them. Girls wanted to fuck them. School had been a breeze to them until they dropped out before Ally could get to the high school, leaving her in the shark tank alone.

The people in Charming always suspected what the club did and, specifically, what her father did. Most adults had a healthy mix of fear and respect for her just by being his kid. Others simply avoided eye contact with her.

Her peers, on the other hand, saw her not as a part of the club, but as a weak extension of it. A piece they could exploit and retain power and control over.

A piece of biker trash.

She stomped to the parking lot of the school. Being a Senior with an after school job had its perks. You got to leave school early if you had permission from your work. The garage was all too happy to oblige her. Parked a few spots over from her rusty truck was Blair's pretty white Ford Focus with a stupid flower decal on her back window.

Ally scanned the empty parking lot while a smirk formed on her face. Reaching into the glovebox of the truck, she pulled out a knife Tig kept in there, just in case. Ally quickly jammed the blade into Blair's back right tire before yanking it out and heading to work.

For the first time that day, Ally smiled.

It seemed business as usual as she pulled into her parking spot at Teller-Morrow that afternoon. She waved her to her dad, who met her halfway to meet her with a hard hug. "Haven't seen you in a few days," Tig commented as he kissed the top of her head. "How's school?"

"Fine," she replied with her pat answer. "You home for a little bit?"

"Yeah, yeah, should be," he replied with a nod. "We'll go somewhere for dinner tonight. Wherever you want to go, baby."

Ally nodded, visions of bacon cheeseburgers filling her mind. "Sounds good. I'm glad you're back in one piece Daddy."

Tig chuckled and winked at her. "Always Al." He glanced up to see Gemma Teller-Morrow watching them from the office. "All right, go to work before Gemma releases her rage." He squeezed her shoulder. "And think about where you want to go." Ally nodded and headed into the office where Gemma was waiting for her.

"Hey," she greeted, picking up a stack of repossessions to go through.

"Hey," Gemma replied. "How was school today?"

Gemma had helped practically raise Ally. She was the only constant female presence Ally had had in her life. Ally always viewed her as a mix of mother, aunt and friend. Had it not been for Gemma, Ally and Tig would have been in for a very rough trip of life together.

Ally shrugged and kept her eyes down. "Fine. You sticking around today?"

"No. I need to do some grocery shopping and take care of some errands. It's been slow today. I'm sure you can handle it on your own. If you have any trouble, Clay's here and he can deal with it."

Clay Morrow was Gemma's husband and the President of the Sons. He was also the owner of the garage.

Gemma picked up her purse and her eyes finally landed on Ally proper. "Hey," she put her hand on the girl's arm and noticed it tense under her touch. "You okay, baby?"

Ally nodded, still keeping her eyes down. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

Gemma shook her head and took her hand off of Ally. "No reason. You've just looked a little out of it lately. Are you sleeping okay?"

Ally shrugged. "I didn't sleep too well last night so I'm a little tired. But, I'm fine Mama Gemma. I promise. Just a little tired. That's all," she lied flawlessly.

"That's all?"

"That's all," she repeated. "Go on. I'll take care of everything here."

Gemma nodded, choosing to believe her word. "Okay. You know if something was wrong you could talk to me, right?"

Ally nodded once more. "I know Gemma. If I need to, I will. I promise." She slipped off her plaid shirt and set it on the back of the worn and torn office chair as Gemma left and shut the door behind her. The phone rang almost the instant Ally sat down. "Teller-Morrow, can I help you?"

As a customer began describing their car issues, Ally looked up and saw the one thing that had made the past few months worthwhile. Through the window that peered into the garage she saw the carmel skinned man with tribal tattoos on his head leaned over the exposed engine of a car. His sleeves of his work shirt had been pushed up to expose hard, muscled, tatted arms in the most perfect shade of toasty brown.

Unfortunately, he was a prospect for the club. He was strictly off limits. Well, she was off limits to him as she was the Sergeant's daughter and he was a lowly prospect. It didn't mean she couldn't look and admire, though.

His name was Juice and had started prospecting around February. He was 21 and had come from Queens in New York. He also had mad skills when it came to computers and hacking into them.

Juice also had a smile that could light the whole damn town and made her melt every time she saw it.

"Miss?"

"Oh, um, sorry," Ally said into the phone. She had been daydreaming as Juice bent further over and his absolutely perfect behind was in her perfect line of vision. "All of our guys are busy right now so what we'll need to do is for you to bring it in and we'll take a look at it."

The door from the garage opened and Ally looked up from the desk to see Juice, a grin on his face.

"Um, yeah. You too. Bye," she said to the customer, hanging up the phone. "Hi."

"Hey Ally," Juice replied, that grin still on his face. "Uh, I need the number for the guy with the black Chevy truck. How's your day been?"

Ally shrugged, begging her cheeks not to turn beet red in his presence as she searched the files in vain for the number. "Fine, I guess. Yours?"

"Good, I guess. Slow. So, are you sticking around tonight or going home?"

Ally felt the blood rush a little harder to her cheeks. "Um, me and Dad are going to get something to eat, but after that I don't know." It wasn't unusual for her to spend evenings at the clubhouse versus her actual home. She spend many an evening finishing her homework on the bar or playing pool with one of her dad's brothers. "Why?"

Juice shrugged and took the piece of paper Ally offered him with the number of the truck owner on it. "Just never mind seeing you around." He winked at her. "See you around pretty girl."

Ally quickly averted her eyes at his words and knew her face was a red as a stoplight now. As desperately as she wanted to take his words at face value, she had seen him wink and flirt with all the women who hung around the club, old ladies like Gemma excluded.

She chanced a glance through her lashes to see him on the garage phone, leaning against the wall, a hand on his hip. He reached up and scratched the back of his head, which pulled his tight white shirt up to expose the tan skin of his hip.

Ally bit her lip, closed her eyes and counted to twenty.

The rest of the afternoon went by without a hitch. Ally was even able to finish her homework by time the garage began to shut down. Tig came into the office, leaning on the doorframe.

"Where do you want to go for dinner?"

"I was thinking the diner. I really want a bacon cheeseburger. Like, really bad."

Tig chuckled. "Sounds perfect baby. I got a quick meeting with Clay and we'll head out. Come in the clubhouse." He slung his arm around her shoulders as they walked across the lot. "Homework done?"

Ally nodded. "Yeah. And I only had to totally bullshit on one question."

Tig chuckled at her answer, squeezing her shoulder. "Moments like this, I'm so proud to be your father. So, you were okay by yourself for a few days."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, it's not like it's the first time, Dad. Plus, that new prospect, Dan, checked in on me, as I'm sure you told him to."

Tig nodded. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay while we were all gone. Just between us," he dropped his voice so only she could hear as he pulled a beer for each of them from the bar, "what do you think of him?"

"Dan?" At Tig's nod, she shrugged and played with the label of her beer. "A little creepy. He's just so quiet and he stares. Why?"

Tig nodded. "Just wondered. You know I want you to always feel safe so if you don't feel safe with someone from the club, I need to know."

"Chapel!" Clay called everyone into the room, leaving Ally at the bar by herself. Juice was a little further down working on something on a computer while Dan cleaned a gun at a table on the other side of the clubhouse as prospects they weren't allowed in meetings yet.

"You going to sit down there the whole time?"

Ally looked around to see Juice looking at her. "Are you talking to me?" Surely he had been talking to one of the sweet butts that are always roaming around the clubhouse, and her house in the early hours of the morning.

"Well, yeah Ally. Who else would I be talking to? Come down here. Keep me company."

Ally grabbed her beer and made her way over to where Juice was sitting, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other so she wouldn't trip and made an ass of herself. "Um, what're you working on?"

Juice shrugged and stealthily watched Ally take a seat on an extra stool and pull her tank down where it had ridden up with the action. "Nothing really. Just doing some upgrades that needed to get done. Waiting on Tig?"

"Yeah," she nodded, pushing her hair behind her ears. "We're going to the diner once he gets out of chapel."

"Cool. Okay, you don't have to answer this, Ally, but I gotta know. It has been bugging me since I first saw you. What was it like growing up with that guy as your dad? I mean, he's Tig."

Ally laughed, it felt so good to laugh, and shook her head. "Well, it was interesting, to be honest. But, no. He did a good job. I mean, I'm still alive so he must have done something right."

"What about your mom?"

Ally rolled her eyes. "She was a crow eater and you've met my dad. I was the product of a one night stand. She dropped me off here when I was, like, eight months old and split. I don't even know her name and it's not like Dad has any photos or cherished physical memories of her. Except for me."

"Wow. So, it was just you two from then on?"

"Yep," she nodded, taking a sip of beer. "Gemma helped, obviously. But, it was mostly just me and Dad from then on. Well, except for that time he was in county for 18 months."

"What happened to you when that happened?"

Ally shrugged and picked more of the beer label off, rolling it up in little balls with her fingers. "Group home. Sucked." She kept her gaze locked on the wood of the bar.

She didn't elaborate and Juice didn't pry anymore. "Sorry. Probably shouldn't have asked."

Ally looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. "It's fine. I don't think about it a whole lot and plus, it was a long time ago. I mean, I was ten." She cleared her throat. "So, good run last night?"

Juice's eyes lit up. He had finally been asked to join the club on a gun run. He was almost finished with the mandatory year long prospect period and he felt he still had a lot to prove in the next two months if he wanted to be patched in soon. "Good." His eyes darted to Dan, who was concentrating on his gun, before dropping his voice. "I was excited to finally get asked to do something big, you know. I'm starting to get a little tired of the bitch work and Dan's only been here for, like, three months. I think some of that should belong to him."

Ally nodded in response. "Well, I know I'm part of that bitch work when you have the check on me or even follow me around, but I definitely prefer you doing it than Dan." She nodded to the other prospect.

"I don't consider you bitch work," Juice insisted. As they spoke in such low tones, they had leaned in closer to one another. "I will admit, I do kind of miss that part all ready." He grinned as a blush crept on her cheeks.

Without thinking, Juice pushed a stray curl back behind her ear. He couldn't help but smile at the smile that was creeping across her face. His finger traced her cheekbone before the chapel doors opening before quickly jerking back away from one another.

"See you Juice," Ally murmured quietly as Tig called for her.

"See ya."

"Am I driving or riding?" She looked to Tig as they walked towards where his bike and her truck were parked.

"Do you want to come back here after, or do you want to go home?"

"Uh, I think I'll come back. I finished my homework so I don't have anything else to do. Maybe me and Chibs can spar or something. He said he was going to work with me some."

Tig nodded and got on his bike before holding out a hand to help her on. She always loved riding with her dad. As she got older, he would always go a little faster. Once her helmet was fastened they left the lot and Ally got into the same position she always did when she rode with her Dad as she clasped her arms around his chest. He gave a pat to her hands as they rode down the main strip of town. The heavy metal of his rings tapping her knuckles was as comforting as a warm fleece blanket to her.

When they arrived to the diner they sat at the same booth they always did. Tucked away in the corner, but close to the door. Tig sat with his back to the wall with the door in his line of sight so he could see who was coming in and out of the building. He did that everywhere he went. Part of it was a mentality left over from the military. Also, part of it was paranoia from the life he chose to lead.

"What can I get you to drink?" The bored, older lady asked as soon as they sat down. Tig ordered a beer and Ally got a diet coke.

"So, what did I miss while I was gone?" Tig settled his cornflower blue eyes on his daughter.

Ally shrugged and kept her eyes, which were the same hue, on the sugar pack she was currently tearing. "Nothing really. School's school. I'm bored and I hate it."

"How'd you do on that Chemistry test?" Their drinks were delivered and they gave their orders. Ally took her time unwrapping her straw and navigating it through the ice.

"She hasn't given it back yet," she finally answered. "I really do think I did good on it. I studied and there was only one or two questions that I didn't really know what to do on. So, I should be okay."

Tig nodded in acceptance of her answer. He knew she struggled as a student. She was very much like him in that regard. "Any ideas what you want to do after you graduate? You haven't really said much."

"I kinda do, but I kinda don't at the same time," she replied.

Tig motioned with his hand. "And . . ."

Ally blushed. "Um, well, I kind of want to explore tattooing. I've always been, like, obsessed and fascinated with it. To be honest, that's like the only think that really appeals to me, you know."

"Talk to Happy about it?" Happy was one of Tig's brothers in Sons of Anarchy. He was a lethal man, but also the resident tattoo artist.

"A little. Just, like, in the abstract, but not seriously. I'm planning on it, though."

"You've always drawn really good," Tig commented. "Talk to Hap. He'll tell you whether you should or stay out of it."

Their conversation slowed as their food was delivered. Meals like this were kind of their way of capturing normal family dinner values. It was just the two of them in a booth in a restaurant and they talked about the most mundane details of their day. They didn't have the normal, nuclear family, but it worked for them.

"Good call baby," Tig said as he ate his last fry. "That was some good shit. You ready to go?"

Ally nodded, her stomach full, but a quarter of her burger and a third of her fries left. "I'm so full, but it was so perfect. Thanks Daddy." Once they were back at the clubhouse, Ally's eyes discreetly sought out Juice, who was cozied up to one of the resident crow eaters. She was whispering in his ear and letting her hands wander around his broad chest.

"Hap," Tig called out to a shaved head latino man who was covered in various tattoos. "Al needs to talk to you about some stuff."

That broke Ally's gaze. "What? All ready?"

Tig shrugged at her. "Why not? Got something better to do?"

Ally shook her head as Happy approached them. "What's up?"

"My daughter here is thinking about getting into the tattoo business after graduation. Discuss." Tig was never one to beat around the bush and the sooner Ally decided on something, the better.

"Really? This something you're sure you want to do?" Happy leveled her with an intense look. He was serious about his art and wanted to know how serious she was about it too.

Ally nodded, pushing her hair back. "Yeah. I've always loved the culture of it and Dad has promised I could get one when I turned 18," she added, sending a look to Tig, who shrugged in response. "I love to draw and I just find something so freeing about being able to help someone express something they can't say with words with ink and art. I don't know if college is the right thing for me, to be honest. This is definitely something I want to explore."

"Here's a beer Tig, Happy, Ally." Kylie, one of the younger sweetbutts gave ice cold bottles to them. She knew it was her job to keep the men of the club happy and, by extension, their women, which included Ally. Ally's was promptly snatched from her hand by Tig.

"You're driving and it's a school night." He smirked at her disappointed face. "Sorry babe. You know how it goes. Weekends are cool, but school nights are not."

"I can't wait until I graduate," she muttered, accepting the bottle of water Kylie handed her then. "Thanks."

Juice could see Ally talking to Happy with her dad across the way. Trish, the crow eater who was whispering dirty, dirty things into his ear had lost his attention as soon as she had walked in. Ally was young, but only four years his junior, so not too bad. The fact she didn't rest on a ton of makeup like other girls her age, or even the women who hung around the club did, to appear attractive was refreshing. There was something about that little beauty mark on her jaw that made him want to lick it.

"Hey, Prospect!" Chibs, their Scottish brother called out. "My beer's empty."

From the way he was looking at Juice, it was obvious it was his job to fetch him another one. "Okay then," he muttered to himself before detangling himself from Trish and going behind the bar to grab the bottle.

"And while you're at it," Chibs called out, "bring that gorgeous lass Ally over here. She hasn't hugged me neck yet tonight!" Juice glanced down where Ally was and she was grinning at Chibs like he was a favorite uncle. She looked back over her shoulder at Juice, meeting his eyes. She had gorgeous eyes.

"Well, you heard the man, Ally," he said, motioning for her to go first. She giggled lightly and headed towards the group of comfy chairs Chibs, Piney and Bobby were seated at, going to hug their necks one by one. Her perfect little bubble butt was accented perfectly by the jeans she was wearing.

She perched on the arm of Piney's chair and kissed his temple. He chuckled and patted her knee affectionately. She really was like the little princess of the MC. All the older men doted on her while Opie and Jax gave her hell and love like only older brothers could do.

"She's hot, man," a low voice said beside him. Dan was standing there and Juice never even heard him approach.

He rubbed the back of his head and forced himself to look away from Ally, even though her tank was riding up exposing a smooth expanse of lower back skin as she leaned forward to clink her water bottle to Bobby's beer. "Uh, yeah. She is."

"Too bad she's off limits. Just looking at those tits makes me hard as a motherfucker. I just want to fuck them with my dick before making her swallow it."

A movement behind Dan caught Juice's attention. It was Tig and he head heard everything.

"What did you just say?"

Dan froze, his eyes going wide and no longer focused on Ally's cleavage when Tig's roughly calm voice hit his ear. "Outside. You too." He pointed at Juice and motioned for them to follow him and Happy.

Juice gritted his teeth and followed. This was not going to be good. Once they were out of the door, Tig grabbed Dan by the neck and slammed him against the wall of the clubhouse.

"Looking at my baby girl's tits, are you? Well let me explain it one more time: She. Is. Off. God. Damn. Fucking. Limits. If I so much as catch you wave at her, I will break every bone in your body before I set it on fire. Those tits you were practically jerking off to? Well, you'll never see them. Tits of that caliber were not meant for prospects. No brother of mine, current or future, will be touching them. Ever." Tig squeezed the young prospects neck to the point his face was red and turning a shade of purple. "I will kill you and nobody will miss you. Got it?"

Dan sputtered and nodded.

"Say it, shithead!"

"Got it," he gurgled, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Tig scoffed and let him go. Dan immediately dropped to the ground, gasping for air.

"I don't know how many times I have to say it prospects," Tig continued quietly, "but this will be the last time I do. Stay away from Allison."

"Dad?"

"Yeah, baby?" Tig looked over to the door where Ally had come out, backpack on her shoulder. His demeanor had completely changed. Gone was the cold killer, in its place was a warm father. "You leaving?"

Ally looked at the scene in front of her. "Um, yeah. Preston asked to hang out and I figured why not so," she trailed off with a shrug. "Everything okay out here?"

Tig waved her question off with a hand. "Oh, yeah. Hap and I were just chatting with the prospects." Dan groaned on the ground in response, which earned him a swift kick in the gut from Happy. "Preston, huh? That's on again?"

"Dad," Ally groaned, rolling her eyes. "It was never an on or off thing. It's just a thing."

"A thing," Tig repeated dryly. "Is that what you kids are calling it now?" Tig knew full good and well this kid called his daughter for a booty call. "There's a box of condoms in my room. Use them."

Of all the things Ally blushed at, talking about sex with her Dad was not one of them. She knew all about the birds and the bees and the kinky honey they played with long before the school district made her class take sex ed during junior high. "I know, Daddy. No babies."

"Fucking right no babies." He leaned down as Ally lifted onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek goodbye. "Juice will follow you home."

"I don't need a babysitter, Dad."

Tig lifted a finger. "Making sure you're safe is my number one priority, Al. You may not like it, but fucking humor me. Christ, I'm letting you leave to go fuck a pussy stoner bitch in my house."

Ally rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Dad. At least we know where I got my bad taste level."

Happy chuckled at that. "Good one Al." Tig glared at him and then at Ally before shrugging, a smirk on his face. He was rarely ashamed of his actions.

"Be careful. I'll be home soon and I expect Preston to be the hell out."

"He will. Bye." Ally waved as she and Juice headed into the parking lot. "Sorry Juice."

"It's cool," he responded, getting on his bike as she got into the truck. He made sure his eyes did not go anywhere near her body and waited for the engine of the truck to turn over before revving up his bike. Tig would have no problem breaking his fingers for touching her like he did that afternoon, no matter how innocent it had been.

By time they pulled into her short driveway, a lanky guy had stepped out of a lowriding lime green truck. "Sup' girl."

"Hey Preston," Ally greeted dully, picking the house key from the keyring. "Thanks for the follow Juice."

"Yeah, sure," he murmured, checking the guy out. His hair was shaggy and his ears had been pierced several times with heavy hoops and barbells. Even his nose and lips were covered in metal. He had graduated last year from Charming High and spent most of his time in his parents basement making 'dope' lyrics for when he became a rap star. "Really, Ally? Seriously?"

"Hey," Ally looked him straight in the eye, "don't judge. I'm sure Trish has her swiss cheese ass high in the air waiting for you to be back. I've seen that ass. It's not pretty." For the first time Juice noticed how sad her eyes looked. "I'm here. In one piece. You did your job. See you later. Come on Preston."

"Aw, yeah. Later bro." He jerked his chin up at Juice, who stared impassively at him in return. "I am so ready for this ass," he announced, slapping Ally on the ass while he shut the door. "Get those titties out baby."

"Jesus Christ, Preston, stop acting like a fucking ani," she was cut off as Preston slammed his mouth to hers, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. He moaned as he unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor with a heavy thump. He put his hand on the top of her head and pushed down, indicating he wanted her on her knees.

Ally broke the kiss and pushed him back a little. "I'm not sucking your dick Preston. Forget it."

"What? Come on baby," he whined, following her into her bedroom as she shed her clothes piece by piece in a robotic fashion. "You're so good at it. Your mouth was made for sucking and fucking."

"Gee, thanks, but no," she replied, digging in her bedside table for a condom, tossing one to him, much to his disgust.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You know I hate condoms. Come on, I'll pull out. I'm not wearing this."

"Then you can go home," Ally snapped, leaning back on her bed and turning her television on to some porn so she could start to get wet.

Preston rolled his eyes. "Uh, uh. Ain't wearing that gay shit. And don't forget, babe, you called me." He let silence settle over the room, save for the groans and suckling sounds coming from the television while Ally began to slowly finger herself. "Tell you what, suck me off and I'll wear it; but you have to swallow."

"Not swallowing."

"No deal." His resolve was as shaky has his voice as he was entranced by her fingers running up and down her smooth, pink slit. Ally released a tiny moan from the back of her throat. "Yeah, cool. Whatever." He swallowed thickly. He had made no effort to leave the room.

Ally glanced at him through her lashes. "You can do that." She nodded to the porno where the guy was cumming all over the busty blonde's face and tits.

Preston nodded dumbly, not sure of where to look; at the porn or at Ally. "Hurry up and decide Preston. My dad's going to be home soon."

"Yeah, yeah. Cool. I'll do that. Get over here."

Ally licked her fingers clean, making Preston groan and start stroking himself. She opened her bedside drawer again to pull out a small silver bullet. She pushed it inside her and turned it on. She gasped at the vibrations it sent through her body.

Luanne Delaney, Gemma's friend, believed a woman should always be able to get her rocks off and gave Ally the toy on the sly a few months ago. Ally had never been more grateful to the pornographer as that little bullet kept her sane while she watched Juice from afar.

Kneeling in front of Preston, she took a deep breath. While she didn't mind giving head, it wasn't her favorite. "Open your mouth," Preston commanded and smirked when Ally obliged. He slapped her tongue with his cock, the heavy ring piercing his member barely missing her teeth, before shoving it inside her mouth. "That's right baby, take it all, you dirty fucking slut."

Even with a mouth full of cock, Ally couldn't help but roll her eyes. She could do without all the degrading bullshit that flew out of Preston's mouth while fucking. She bobbed her head and tongued his tip while gently playing with his hairy balls. She wished he would just hurry the hell up. She slid a hand down between her legs to adjust the bullet and started playing with her clit.

"Oh, yeah. Take it all baby. Take all of that big, fucking cock. You like it," Preston babbled. "Ugh, ugly girls do give the best head, don't they."

Ally released his dick with a pop. "The fuck?"

Preston blinked, as if in a daze. "What? Oh, about the giving head part? Oh, come on babe, you know it's true."

Ally shook her head slightly in shock. "So, you're saying I'm ugly?"

Preston shrugged and started stroking himself with her left over saliva. "Well, you're kinda cute Ally, but, lets face it, I've been with hotter. I mean, way hotter."

"Just tell me what you're trying to say Preston," Ally snapped, snatching the bullet out of her and throwing on her panties and an oversized t-shirt.

"Come on," he drawled. "You're Trager-troll and you always will be. I just like that you're easy and down to fuck all the time. It's probably from your low self-esteem from being ugly and shit and I dig it."

Ally's face was flushed with anger. "Get out."

"What?"

"Get the fuck out!" She shoved him towards her bedroom door.

"Don't you fucking push me troll. I'm a fucking man!" He had to grab his nose quickly thereafter as Ally punched him hard, blood spewing onto her fist before shoving him again, this time down the hall.

"I said get out!"

"Fucking bitch! I'm bleeding!" He made to swing at her, but Ally dodged it. The front door crashed open and Preston was promptly thrown against the wall.

"Did you just try to fucking swing at her?" Juice had him by his neck, his face inches from his. "Huh? Little bitch ass punk. Get the fuck out of here before I punch you." He let go of Preston, who stood still against the wall. "Now!"

Preston was visibly shaking as he looked once between Ally and the angry biker before running out, only stopping to grab his pants.

"What the hell happened?" Juice turned to a shamed Ally, who was fiddling with the bottom of her frayed shirt. "Huh?"

Ally shrugged and looked up at him, her jaw set hard. "Things got out of hand and I was handling it."

"He tried to fucking hit you. That's not fucking handing things."

"And he missed because he sucks. Preston wasn't going to be able to get his hands on me and I don't need you coming in like a goddamn white knight on your fucking high horse! Now, get out!"

"Like fucking hell I am." Juice was seething. Who did this little girl think she was?

Ally was breathing hard through her nose, rage spewing through her veins. "Whatever. I don't care." She turned on her heel and stomped into her room, slamming the door behind her. Juice contemplated following her in there, but stopped once his hand hit he doorknob. He could hear her crying on the other side of the wood.

He tentatively knocked on the door. "Ally? Are you okay?"

He heard her sniffle and curse before he heard the muffled slam of another door and nothing but quiet after. She must have hid in the closet to finish her cry.

"Shit," he muttered, turning around and sliding down the door until he was seated on the worn hardwood floor. That was the position Tig found him in a few hours later.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Juice stood up, his body stiff from being on the floor so long. "Things got out of hand with that Preston douche, I threw him out and Ally kind of . . . broke down. She slammed and locked the door and she was crying, man. I didn't know what to do and I didn't want to leave her by herself. Wasn't even sure if that kid was going to try and come back or what."

Tig ran a hand down his face before rubbing the back of his neck. "All right. Thanks, Juice, for stepping in. Even though she could probably break him in a million pieces, I'm still glad you had her back."

Juice nodded before smirking. "She did bust his nose pretty good, though."

Tig chuckled darkly. "I have no doubt. Go on," he jerked his head towards the door. "I'll see you in the morning. I can handle it from here. Thanks again."

Juice nodded and headed towards the door. He saw Tig's cut hanging neatly next to Ally's purple hoodie. He realized it was the first time he had seen Tig without his cut and within his own home. Juice took a small glance around the small house. It was minimally, but functionally, furnished and the shelves were filled with books, knickknacks and photos of Tig and Ally throughout the years.

Tig waited until he heard the door click shut before softly knocking on the door. "Al? Ally," he slowly picked the lock and opened the door to see her bed empty. It didn't worry him though, he knew exactly where she liked to hide when she was upset. He opened the white door to her small walk-in closet to find her curled up on the floor, fuzzy red blanket wrapped around her sound asleep.

Tig gently picked her up, careful not to wake her and placed her in bed, pulling the blankets up around her. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently pushed her hair out of her face. He could see the faint, salty tracks of tears on her cheeks.

"I wish I knew what to do baby," he whispered to her sleeping form. "I know something's wrong, but you won't tell me what. I love you sweet girl. No matter what." He gently kissed her forehead and let her sleep.