it had been a few weeks since jackson had opened his home to
the complete stranger. never a smart thing to do, but it had paid
off well. when he came home, he was no longer completely alone.
he had someone to talk to, to watch television with, and that was
something he had yet to get used to. having an old lady was one
thing, but having a legitimate friend outside of the club was ---
liberating. something about it made him feel alive, not a part of
the club, and that was both a good and bad thing. either way, his
home would be open to her for weeks more, if she needed it to be.
his hands run through his hair as he looks into the mirror, having
just took a shower. the club had been getting into his head, making
him do things that he truly didn't want to do. it was a lot to process
over the past couple of days, having killed three men in that time
period. his father hadn't wanted this for him, but he had ended up
doing it anyway. he realized, now, why his old man was so angry
at the world, why he hated what the club had become. something
he once was so proud of, stripped away in an instant. there would
no longer be justice here.
justice or no justice, jackson had taken somewhat of an off day. he
was the vice president, with no vacation time, but he had called his
mother and complained about his leg from getting hit with a baseball
bat. she gave him an earful, called him a ' pussy ' but that was about
it. jackson was off for the day and he truly wanted to spend all of his
time with the one and only housemate that he could actually get along
with. what a strange way to meet someone, but it had to be for a reason.