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Frank went on a ride to avoid snapping at her. For some reason, she had made him so mad. However, what made him even more mad was the fact that she had been sleeping behind the garage the entire time and he was completely oblivious to it. Not to mention, he was suddenly more curious about what business she had brought into the club that was making her feel so bad, even to the point in which she was voluntarily sleeping on the streets.

For a long time Frank simply rode around, speeding past cars and allowing the cool night breeze to cool his nerves. However, his racing mind had somehow led him right back to the clubhouse and he found himself marching into Fury's office and slamming the door shut behind him.

Fury looked up at his old friend for a good minute, his gaze turning back down to an order he was processing for the club. "What can I help you with tonight, Frank?" he asked, sounding rather uninterested in whatever reason he was there.

"What business did Charlie bring into the club?" Frank asked, his voice deeper and darker than ever before. For some odd reason, he wanted to know what it was so he could solve it himself.

Fury's entire body went ridged and he sat the paperwork down, looking up at him. "Where did you hear that?"

"Straight from the girl herself," Frank said. "What business did she bring?"

Fury sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, standing to his feet. "Look, I didn't want the rest of the club to know nor did I want any of you to get involved. It's my sisters mess, I'm cleaning it up," he said, trying to drop the topic but Frank step closer, crossing his large arms over his chest and glaring down at him.

In that moment he didn't give a damn if he was disrespecting his President, what he wanted to know was what danger she was in and he wanted to know now. "I won't ask again, Fury."

"What are you gonna do, Frank?" Fury challenged, returning the glare. "You gonna kill me? Get over yourself. It doesn't concern you."

Frank slammed his fist into his desk, cracking the wood and silencing the room. "What business?" he asked yet again, his voice low and filled with poison.

The two continued glaring at each other for a moment, Fury searching Frank's eyes for a reason not to tell him what he wanted to know but there was nothing. Defeated, Fury slumped down in his seat, running another hand through his hair and sighing deeply. "Sit down, then," he said, looking up at him. "It's gonna take a minute to explain the situation."

Slowly, Frank pulled a chair up and sat down, arms crossed over his chest and his full attention on Fury.

"It's been about sixteen years since I last saw my sister, Frank. I left home, fed up from my fathers abuse and came here. Anyway, when I left, I left Charlie. However, it wasn't long after that when our dad died from alcohol poisoning and I went back home to get her but she was long gone. I guess, during that time, she'd been thrown into an orphanage and, once she turned eighteen and left, she got into some trouble with the Russian Mafia. Fell in love with Mikhailov's one and only son but, that shit didn't end well either. I guess the kid had started abusing her and she shot him straight in the chest. She's been on the run ever since. When she called, she called from a Motel off the side of some back-country road in Nevada, she was desperate so I went and got her," he explained. "So, in the end. She brought trouble from the Russian Mafia in Southern California, Mikhalov's crew. I've been trying to sort it out."

Frank was shocked to say the least. He didn't know Charlie had it in her to kill a man. "How'd she get your number then? How'd she call you?"

Fury chuckled. "I kept my phone from when I left home. Before I left I gave Charlie the phone number and I kept the phone, in case she ever called. That's why I could never call her. I guess after all those years she kept the number," he explained, a small smile on his lips.

Frank stood causing Fury to stand as well. "Now, Frank, don't go doing something rash, we can't just go into the place and start shooting it up, plus, it's about a three hour drive from here. They've got more people and more resources, we go in there and start shooting we'll be slaughtered. Stand down," he snapped, warning Frank this once.

"So, what? You're gonna do a peace treaty or some shit? This is the mafia we're talking about, they don't do peace treaties," Frank snapped back. "When they come they're gonna come for blood. Especially since she killed Mikhailov's one and only son, I'm surprised they aren't here already."

"What's your sudden interest in my sisters business anyway, Frank?" Fury suddenly snapped, no longer wanting to discuss the topic of the Mafia. "I thought you weren't very fond of her, now you're looking like you'll slaughter an entire Mafia for her."

Instead of saying anything back, Frank snarled at him and exited, marching out of the club and back over to the garage. He pushed the door open and headed straight to the back, stopping right in front of Charlie, watching as she stood there, grasping a wrench in her hand and looking up at him confused. He couldn't believe it. How could someone like her pull a trigger on a man? She doesn't even look like she's ever picked up a weapon, or even hurt a fly for that matter.

"You sleep upstairs, third door on the left. Bathroom is the first on the right. Don't go into any other rooms besides those two, ya hear?" he said rather quickly, seething with his own anger.

She was dumbfounded for a solid moment and then, suddenly, a big grin cracked on her face and he forgot why he was mad from the beginning. "Thanks a lot, Slipknot," she beamed.

He grunted, turning away from her and heading up the stairs. "Lock up at eleven," he called to her, heading to the room that she'd be staying in and quickly pulling out blankets and a pillow for her, along with a towel if she showered.

He headed to his room, shutting and locking himself in there. He unzipped his overalls, tying the sleeves around his waist and ripping his mask off.

What a mess he'd become. Well, what a bigger mess he'd become.

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