Here I Stand √ Juice Ortiz.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: ʜᴏᴍᴇ

                By the time the pair made it back to the clubhouse, the party had been disbanded. Their Prospect had gone off, and Hades made it known as to why. Clay blew a casket. The one time Clay put his trust in that boy, he disappears. Chibs would have agreed with Clay's rants; however, if it meant getting his niece back - he couldn't argue.

"They are going to kill me, " Juan says over his shoulder as the engine cuts from his bike. Clove still held her arms around his midsection, examining the shadow of the Clubhouse. After a moment, she slips her arms from around him and unattached his helmet from her chin.

"They'll forgive you by making you clean the toilet, " Clove tells him while dismounting from the back of his bike. She hands over his helmet, placing her gaze on the man who still sat on his ride.

Their eyes connected, and Juan felt a random spark he had never experienced. Clove conversed about affection essentially being something that magically appeared within 24 hours. Their entire ride back to the Clubhouse felt complex and foreign. Juan couldn't stop thinking about it.

While she held out his helmet, Juan gently clasped his hands around the edge of the safety gear and felt his chest tighten.

"Before we go in there, " Juan began, ripping his soft eyes away from Clove to place his helmet on the handlebars. "You need to tell me why you wanted to jump."

"That's not your business."

"I saved you, " Juan points out. "When I stepped in, your business became my business. And once we walk into the clubhouse, I need to know what I'm getting into."

Clove pinched her lips together and crossed her arms. If the circumstances were different, Clove would have spoken about what happened without a doubt since Juan came back to find her. Now knowing this man wasn't some assassin ready to blow her head off, Clove could put her trust in his hands. However, trust no longer mattered. What made her hesitate was the thought of reliving that night. Just the foggy images of blood and ghostly screams coming from her comrades made Clove shiver.

As Juan carefully dismounted, she rubbed her arms and then gripped her elbows to keep her arms tighter around her midsection.

Juan pulled out a box of cigarettes with a smile and took out one for him and another for Clove. He hands her the cancer stick and quickly lit them both up to calm her nerves. As she took a long drag, Clove's shaky hands grew stable, and she rapidly blew out the smoke, scratching her upper lip with the tip of her thumbnail.

"Okay, where do I start?" Clove questions with honesty.

"What happened to your Charter? Who are Arthur Knox and Titus?"

Clove cringed at her late father and brother's names. She then took one more hit of her cigarette before lowering her hand, watching the smoke from the embers circle before her.

"Arthur Knox was my da. He was born in Essex. Fought in the Vietnam War with J.T. - they became pretty close. Eventually, after the war, as you know, a group of men who loved Harley Davidson motorcycles created a club. Sons of Anarchy. Dad moved to Charming, and he became one of The First 9's. It meant a lot to him.." Clove paused to make sure Juan is listening.

"....My dad eventually met my mom Rose Kathrine. They ended up getting married and, with some planning, opened a Charter in Essex, England. He wanted to be closer to his hometown, and my mom was sick of Charming. They had me and my eldest brother Titus - and despite what my mom wanted for us, me and Titus, we grew interested in cars and motorcycles. And as we got older, we fought like hell to take a seat at that table. It was fuckin' hard. The rules had to be bent. Shit that made sense back then; that doesn't make sense now had to be rewritten. It took my dad a lot to get me in as a Prospect..."