“ Different good or different bad?” she had come to understand that vodka wasn’t for everyone here, as crazy as that seemed, so White Russian wasn’t as popular as she thought it would be.
But for her it was a small piece of home. The reason she had left, had been that her Handler had sent her out to find new girls, to bring them back, so that they would be trained as she had been. For some reason that had crossed a line with her. It was probably a bad sign that this was the thing she felt was ‘wrong to ask of her’ when everything before hadn’t troubled her.
“ I think I am made up only of my accent. I have not been here very long and I have not needed a lot of english before.” she explained with a shrug. Yana had come to terms with her inability to speak the language correctly and she knew it would get better over time anyway. The only thing that was a little bothersome was, that people thought her to be simple, but being underestimated was part of her. They chose little girls because of that. Who would suspect a small woman with curly blonde hair and awkward behaviour of being a vicious killer?
Belfast… that city ran a bell, but she couldn’t tell why. Maybe Jax had told her about the Sons there? She had to ask him later if she remembered… but it did bug her for some reason.
The connection to Jax brought a smile to her face. “ So you are a friend of Jax?” Jax rarely talked about other women to her. Her guess was, that he expected her to be jealous. Even when they talked about Wendy, because of Abel, he started acting weird.
“ I ran away from bad people and Jax picked me up at a gas station.” which was the truth in it’s simplest form. Yana saw no reason in lying unless it was necessary, and in this case it wasn’t.
“Just different. It’s not bad, if that’s what you’re asking.” She replied, bringing the brim of the glass to her lips once more. It wasn’t something she was accustom to, but it wasn’t something that was God awful either. She supposed it was from the fact that she was used to beer or hard liquor instead of something like this.
“Well your English is great for not needing it.” She complimented. Alanna had several lessons on how to disguise her Irish accent, though members of the MC and the croweaters know her place of birth, no one else did unless she spoke about it. That was the point, however. She ran from where she was, she didn’t want a single soul but those she allowed in to know where she was from.
Her tongue trailed over her lips, friend? How did she explain that she’s been in his bed already? She shrugged, “I guess so.” Her words were short, but she wasn’t supposed to explain her business with the members of the club to anyone. “All of the MC members are friends in some shape way or form. I just kinda..stick to myself unless I’m wanted.” Those words may have been painfully depressing to most, but she was hoping it wasn’t to her.
“Guess it’s a good thing a man in leather on a shiny Harley came to the rescue than, huh?” Her sayings weren’t usually cut out for most, but a smile grew on her lips to show there was no ounce of remorse or sarcasm laced within her words. “So you stay...here? At the club?”
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