A/N (( New story I'm playing with. Takes place partly in Season 5 but ultimately it'll be in it's own AU after this Ch. Nora's appearance is based off the actress Kate Mara. I'm still toying with just what her relationship is with Tig whether it's romantic. If it's not a romantic one I'm thinking of the idea of pairing her with either Jax or Happy, It if were Jax he's more than likely divorced from Tara at this point and only has Abel. So let me know what everyone would like to see. Rated for Swearing, and implications of torture. Romance to develop. I own nothing. Enjoy!))

The sun was just above the hills; casting a beautiful orange glow across the pale exteriors lining the narrow street. A mixture of humble single bedroom homes nestled in an outdated neighborhood just outside of Glendale. White picket fences replaced by chain link years ago, the quaint middle class families swapped for less than highly regarded people. Everyone still sat on front porches, waved to passing cars, still determined to live the American dream no matter the means. Neighborhood kids rushing from end of a driveway to the other, a makeshift basketball game in progress. A scuffle breaks out between two of the older teenagers, forcing the ball to roll into the street their voices calling out in unison for the game to pause.

A faded green Nissan slowed to a stop, allowing the ball to roll by freely and into the gutter on the other side of the street a thirteen year old boy jogging after it hand-held out in thanks not far behind it. When he returned to his friends the Nissan proceeded to pull into the cracked driveway just beyond. Rolling down the window they smiled unabashedly at the approaching Hispanic man. He wore baggy jeans and work boots, paint splatter visibly staining them both. Button up plaid shirt untucked, white tank top visible near the throat which was heavily decorated in tattoos. Leaning down into the open window he rested his forearm against the roof of the car, expression remaining blank even as he accepted a brown paper bag from the woman inside.

Her voice was calm, cordial.

"Hey Frankie, here's your sisters medication. I convinced the pharmacy to give you a bigger dosage it should last a couple of months this time."

Tucking the bag under his left arm he gave a nod as he made to hand her a folded stack of bills. Shaking her head the gesture was politely refused. Gently closing her hand around the money Nora pushed it back towards him out of sight of anyone around them.

"No, keep it please." She insisted, despite the fact the generosity wouldn't be taken kindly.

Placing the bills back inside his pocket he ran a hand down his face, drawing attention to the impressive amount of ink on his forehead and cheekbones. They spoke of his allegiances, of his dangerous nature. She knew she had nothing to fear from him, neither from his obvious reputation nor the unregistered gun in the waistband of his jeans. He regarded the hazel eyed woman with an expression most would find threatening but Nora knew better. Having already lived a lifetime of intimidating, stubborn men she'd learned how to toe the line.

"Second time you won't let me pay. That shit looks bad." He replied as if it was something she didn't already know.

"I know, but you and your guys did a great job painting my kitchen. So consider it a down payment on the bedroom and living room." She countered knowing she had him there.

Cursing under his breath he rapped his knuckles on the roof of the car. It was then that one of his crew near the curb began to whistle loudly, shouting something in Spanish towards the pair. The sentence made Nora bite her cheek sharply, heat rushing to her face. Head bowed towards the steering wheel, hands gripping it tightly before moving to turn off the engine. Frankie turned towards the man his expression callous.

"What the hell's wrong with you John-John? Keep your fuckin mouth shut. Don't fuckin talk to her." He shouted in English, willing the other man to question his authority.

The man scowled heavily at the reprimand, crossing his arms over his chest but remained silent. Nora had lived on this street for almost three years now; it hadn't taken much convincing on anyone's part that she needed to learn a new language. Though there were times when she wished she didn't know what was being said about her. Being the only Caucasian woman on the street had made her popular for one reason or another, being single had made her a novelty. When Frankie wasn't around the heckling and catcalls were worse though mostly harmless taunting.

Frankie shook his head annoyance easily detectable by his loud sigh.

"Forget that asshole…Look I don't wanna freak you out but my cousin heard someone at the corner gas ask a bunch of questions about the white girl who lives on this block. You got someone hassling you?"

Frowning Nora shook her head, an undeniable sliver of anxiety curling in the pit of her stomach.

"Um…no. No I don't. When was this?"

"I dunno, yesterday? Carlos said they drove off in a black Cadillac. I woulda told you before but we had business to settle downtown."

Her troubled expression drew a quick response from the man.

"Don't call the cops they won't do shit. Call my cell I'll come over."

Nora gave him a soft glare with no real heat behind it. Frankie wasn't exactly flirting so much as he was being protective of his sister's good friend. Nora took it all in good stride.

"Gee thanks Frankie…That makes me feel really good, fuck." Nora replied.

While out of the ordinary, it could just be an awkward coincidence. She forced herself to think of it that way, to give the information no power. She wasn't going to allow herself to be worked up over possibly nothing.

"Forget the cops; I have Mash to look after me." She said smiling.

Mash which was short for Monster Mash an 85lb American pit bull, with scars roping across his chest and face he made for a formidable pet. Nora had rescued him from a local shelter two years ago. Without her Mash would have been the next runner-up on a kill list. The woman working there had thought she was crazy to want to adopt him he'd been difficult and snarled at anyone who passed by. They'd been ready to consider him unable to rehabilitate. She'd desperately tried showing her sweet looking terriers and energetic chocolate labs in trying to sway the 110lb woman from choosing anything else beside the intimidating animal. But Nora couldn't be swayed. She'd instantly felt a connection with the dog, perhaps better than most she knew how important it was to be given a second chance, for someone anyone to see beyond the hurt.

The moment the dog had seen her that day it had quieted its incessant barking almost instantly. Standing in front of the cage she'd calmly held out a hand to the fence allowing him to smell her. It wasn't long before his tail started to wag and a low rumbling omitting from his chest. Licking her fingers before turning once, twice he clawed at the cement as if to say 'let's go, let's go!' And that had been that. She'd taken him home that afternoon. The only obvious issues she'd had with Mash was his distinct dislike for men, even now in front of her house she could hear him like a lunatic a mouthful of window blinds crunching in between angry barks Frankie's presence next to the young woman setting the animal on edge.

Snorting softly Frankie shook his head.

"Mean ass dog. We'll keep an eye out Nora see you later girl."

Pointing her keys towards the door she started to say her goodbye when the distant ringing of her house phone interrupted her. Cursing she waved a quick goodbye to her neighbor and rushed to the door cramming the key inside the lock. Half stumbling over the giant wiggle worm that was Monster Mash she eventually made it to the kitchen counter. On what was probably the last ring before the answering machine picked up Nora snatched it up her voice breathless.

"Hello?"

Nothing, only the sound of weak clicking in the background.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" She tried one last time.

Music faded in and out for a second before the line clicked dead.

Taking the phone away from her ear Nora stared down at the caller ID. She didn't recognize the number, but that didn't necessarily mean something bad. Setting the phone back down on the charger with more force than she intended Nora rubbed her temple, running acrylic emerald-green painted nails through her hair.

"Stop it…Stop it Nora…It's just a wrong number. That's all, it happens to anyone."

Turning towards the door she slipped the dead bolt in place even going as far to check the knob making sure it was locked tight. Looking down she couldn't help but smile at Mash who trembled in excitement at her arrival. He was impatiently waiting for his mommy to notice him. Kneeling down she indulged him allowing the animal to deliver a few sloppy kisses as he practically bowled her over.

"Yes yes I missed you to big boy, now get down."

Rising up she pointed towards the window. The mini blinds in a pathetic state of destruction, slobber visibly dripping down.

"Bad boy Mash…"

The blue-gray pit bull pretended not to know what she was talking about.

"Should we make dinner? Delicious dog food for you, scrumptious steak and beer for mommy?" She asked teasingly.

She could tell by Mash's comical look the animal would happily trade. Today had been a long day and with the evenings mildly upsetting news she needed the beer more than he did.

Their house was small but cozy, perfect for just her and Mash. Its renovations were nearly complete, the only things remaining to update the 1950's home being a few more cosmetic changes. At thirty-three years old she considered it a big accomplishment to have something as important as this that was just hers. Walking into the bedroom she peeled her shirt over her head making her way into the bathroom.

Standing under the hot spray from the shower she tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. A possibility that she tried to remind herself was not possible. Turning off the water she stepped out carefully her bare feet leaving small trail of water across the oak floors. Hastily drying off she pulled on a pair of navy blue lace hipster boy shorts and a thin white tank top. Damp curls sticking to her shoulders, glancing around the room she noticed that Mash was gone. Chalking it up to nothing unusual she figured he'd gone out the dog door during her shower. Maybe he'd found a girlfriend. At least one of them was getting lucky she thought jokingly.

Steak.

Beer.

Bed.

That was the plan. Sifting through the fridge she grabbed a cold beer, taking a long pull before picking at the label, her thoughts running amuck. Pensively she imagined the phone call wasn't a mistake. That perhaps he had called her. It had been a long time, a life time in fact. Charming was a distant memory and yet it pulled at her heart even now. Pushing away from the counter Nora inhaled a deep breath. The past was the past and there was no sense in causing discomfort. Tracing the small tattoo on her hip she took another sip of beer. The present was all that mattered. Here and now.

One beer, two, the steak remained uncooked and forgotten in the fridge.

Eleven O'clock at night found Nora eyeballing her purse on the bed she wrestled with the decision to dig out her cell phone. Picking up the purse she tipsily fished out the electronic device. Scrolling through the numbers she hit send. It rang three times before, a man's sleepy voice answered.

"Yeah, what is it?"

She laughed, half drunk. Voice half asleep.

"Rachel tell your brother he's an asshole, can you come over…I'm freaking out a little."

The voice on the other end was slow to respond.

"Nora? Nora is that you?"

Oh Shit, this wasn't Frankie's sister. Panicking Nora could only laugh nervously. A lightweight she felt embarrassed she'd mistakenly dialed his number.

They tried one more time.

"What the hells going on Nora?"

She never let them finish, hanging up the phone she threw it across the room waiting almost fearful they would call back. But the device remained silent. Licking her lips Nora closed her eyes for a moment.

"…Great…fucking great." She mumbled curling on her side as she buried her face into the pillows willing sleep to erase her embarassment.

Chest rising and falling Nora had just fallen asleep when the screaming began.

Jolting off the bed she stood frozen, eyes glued to the open doorway before she was able to understand what was happening the sound of a man's voice shouting again.

"No…No baby no…No! No! Goddamnit no…."

Nora recognized the voice; it made her chest tighten.

"Kill me, just kill me…Not her...No…NO. NO!"

Gritting her teeth Nora wanted to scream. Eyes flicking to the doorway she saw no one.

The echoing of a girl's screams drowned out the sound of his desperate pleas. The blood curdling noise almost inhuman in its pain and Nora hesitantly moved from the foot of the bed towards the open door. Hands hovering inside of the frame she could see the television from where she stood. Playing on the 44 inch screen was a home video of a woman inside a steel pit.

She was being burned alive.

The camera hovered for a moment before its attention was turned towards a man beside the pit. His arms restrained as he is forced to his knees face snarling in panic and rage as the girls screams hit its pinnacle. Eventually quieting down the only sound beyond the man's agonizing moans was that of a distant train whistle echoing in the background. It's nighttime in the video but the lamps in the background giving the perfect amount of clarity as the lens zooms in on the man, his eyes staring blindly towards the smoldering pit.

The video's abrupt end turns Nora's attention from the television screen. A pair of African-American men standing just inside the entry way were blocking the front door but it was the man wearing the expensive designer suit sitting at the kitchen table that gave her great pause. Rising from his seat he adjusts the cufflinks of his shirt, giving each sleeve a gentle tug. The shotgun Nora taped to the bottom of her mattress was lying on the counter its shells neatly arranged beside it. The gravity of the situation is crushing.

She doesn't wait for an introduction.

The only thing stopping Nora from reaching the back door is the sudden and unforgiving force connecting with her stomach. The strength drops her to the floor like a lead weight expelling the air from her lungs and bringing hot tears to her eyes. Curling into a ball, an arm wrapping around her midsection she weakly fights the rough sensation of someone pulling her to her feet. Forcing her to look up the man gripping her by the arm with one hand a wooden baseball bat clutched loosely in the other. Four against one, this hardly seemed fair.

The man in the expensive suit waves the other two men over and Nora tells herself not to gag as her throat is suddenly bone dry.

"Ms. Rawlins. Do you have a relationship with the man in the video?"

Hazel eyes flicking towards the television she struggled to answer first nodding then shaking her head no. Her apparent confusion made Damon Pope step closer.

"I'm confused is that a yes or no; it's a simple question."

"Ye..s."

He had the nerve to cup his ear.

"I'm sorry, speak louder."

"Yes! Trager, his name is Alex Trager." She said forcing the words out.

If she'd had any disillusions this response was going to ease the situation she would have been horribly wrong.

"It's our mutual acquaintance Mr. Trager that has brought me to your home tonight. Now you might be wondering what it is he's done. Well a month ago he murdered my daughter."

The gravity of the situation rapidly began to settle on Nora and she pressed her lips together tightly, willing herself not to cry.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry."

Damon Pope blinked at her apology.

"I've spent the last month trying to imagine what fuels a man as low as he. I said to myself to extract justice I needed to strip away everything he could possibly hold dear no matter how slight. So I started with his youngest child and that seemed to chip the surface."

She felt the bile rise in the back of her throat, Dawn. Jesus Christ They'd forced Tig to watch his own daughter burn alive.

Digging through his suit jacket Pope produced a lightly crumbled photograph its edges gently frayed with time. It was a picture of her and Tig. Sitting on his lap, head resting against his shoulder her eyes closed in a look of contented bliss. A memento she never imagined Tig would keep. There was only one place they could have found this.

"I don't pretend to understand your relationship with a man like Trager but from what I can find you'll be able to help me cement in his mind just how painful his last days will become."

One of the men near the door picked up a bag beside their feet a camcorder appearing as if by magic.

Tears flowing freely now she started to struggle. The anger this man held was deeply rooted and she hiccupped in loud sobs as she was forced to look at him.

Pope waved the man with the camcorder over, it was clear that her fear meant little to him. She found it painfully ironic that such a man found Trager beneath him. Stepping aside he made himself comfortable draping his suit jacket over the back of a chair. Folding his hands across the tabletop he gave her a level stare.

"You have my deepest sympathies for your suffering Ms. Rawlins but unfortunately it won't be as quick as Ms. Tragers. I mean to make my intentions understood."