Milk and Honey. ▸ Chibs Telford.

Love knows life has been hard enough already

Winnie stood in Gemma's kitchen, eyes trailing over the buffet of food as she shot her step-mother a look, brow raising. Last time she stood here, she'd been invited to a similar buffet, food having decked every surface. And from the looks of it, the food hadn't changed that much. Huge trays of mashed potato, piles of meat left to cool, and vegetables freshly steaming in the bain marie. "I remember the last dinner party I went to where you hosted." Half of them ended up being sick.

Gemma shot her a look, stirring a bubbling pot, cigarette sitting in the other hand as she puffed on it. "Hey! I've improved since then. My dinner parties are something of a success." That would be the day.

"A success, eh? Gemma Teller, Queen of Biker Boy Criminals, and Dinner Parties." She teased, the jest light but enough to send her dark eyes rolling, head shaking as she stared at her daughter. Little bitch, Gemma thought, not meaning it in the slightest as Win lent against the side, reaching for her own pack of smokes.

"Bite me."

She reached for a lighter, lighting it before sitting up on the counter, hand reaching for a roll. "Might have to with your cooking." Winnie squished it in her hand, finding it soft on the inside. Gemma shook her head again, smirking as the girl began to tear it apart, pulling little chunks of bread out before biting into them. If she hadn't been wearing heels long enough to twist an ankle, and lipstick in hooker red; Winnie could have easily passed for that little five year old that used to sit on her counters in yellow sundresses and roller skates.

"Jesus christ, you haven't changed one bit." She muttered, the icy blue lifting up. Winnie shrugged, going back between a drag of the cigarette and a bite of the roll. "See you picked up your mother's habits."

"Cigarette and bread binge?" She asked, nodding as she placed down the empty half, moving to the next. Maybe Gemma wasn't so bad with the food, but she was only tasting the bread. "Yeah, helped me through my exams a lot." And when she'd run out of money.

Gemma shook her head, sighing. "You gotta knock that shit off, I'm not going to shove my hand down your throat to force feed you either." She warned, Winnie nodding.

"Got it." Gemma pursed her lips, but let it slide; stirring the pot again. "Just the club tonight?"

"Yeah. Clay thought it'd be a good idea to introduce you, some of the boys are already asking questions." About why she'd been gone for so long, probably. Gemma saw the look, her hands tugging at the bread hurriedly. "Don't worry, they'll be on their best behaviour. You know Clay wouldn't have any of their shit."

She knew that. "Yeah, I'm just not sure about meeting so many people, you know."

Gemma hesitated. "They're only Clay's friends, they're close." Yeah, Win got that. "Is there something going on, Win? Is that why you're back?" The ice lifted again, staring deep in the brown as she shook her head. Liar, Gemma thought. "Clay told me you haven't spoken to your mom, why's that?"

Winnie shrugged. "Same reason as usual."

"Little Miss Charming is still a bitch?" The nod confirmed it. "What about Step dad? Thought he was supposed to be God's gift." God's bitch, maybe. Satan's little devil spawn, the man walked and spoke pure evil. Her back shivered, hand throwing down the bread roll; stomach churning.

"No different." She muttered, Gemma pursing her lips. That was the reason. Winnie slipped down from the counter, landing on her heels with barely a wobble before she turned to outside. "I'm going to get some fresh air, let me know if you need any help." Gemma let her go without a qualm, hands shifting to find her phone. She needed to speak to Clay.