#soaimagineswrites

He was a heavy sleeper, often so worn out from whatever the day had entailed that he’d drift off in a matter of minutes. You were the opposite, laying awake next to him, mindlessly tracing your fingers over his arm as it lay across you, your mind racing with worries.

It was hard not to worry about Angel. He could look after himself, of course. You knew that, and you trusted that. But his life was dangerous, and he was often putting himself on the line in ways you couldn’t, and didn’t, want to imagine.

It wasn’t often, however, that he fell asleep on the sofa. But a long day with the club left him exhausted and once you’d gotten a warm meal into him, sleep was sure to follow.

As much as you hated going to bed without him, you decided not to wake him. Instead you took the blanket draped over the sofa and pulled it over him, making sure his tall frame was covered.

With a whisper of ‘Goodnight’ you pressed a kiss to his forehead before slinking out of the room.

It was well past midnight when your eyes fluttered open. The glowing red numbers on your alarm clock glared at you and you rolled over. You burrowed under the blankets and closed your eyes.

Something didn’t feel right.

You slowly opened your eyes and peeked towards the door.

The dark figure loomed at the foot of your bed.

For a moment your heart stopped, and you froze as panic washed over you. A scream rose in your throat but before you could make a sound, it spoke.

“Why you leave me in there by myself?”

You blinked rapidly and sat up.

“Angel?! You gave me a fucking heart attack!”

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room you noticed the blanket wrapped around him, his hair disheveled as he looked at you through hooded eyes.

With only a grunt in response he shuffled around the bed and slid under the sheets. Leaning back into your pillows you wrapped your arms around him as Angel buried his head in your neck.

“I don’t like sleeping without you,” He mumbled into your skin. “I missed you mama”

You couldn’t help the smile forming on your face and your kissed the top of his head.

“I know baby, I missed you too.” You stroked his head softly. “Didn’t miss your fucking snores though.”

Angel flicked his open his zippo lighter, watching the flame ignite the end of his blunt before snapping it shut and tossing it onto the bedside table. He blew out a cloud of smoke before passing the joint to you.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, slowly passing the joint between you til smoke lingered thick in the air. Your heartbeat slowly stopped racing as your body recovered from this mornings love making.

Once the joint was finished Angel placed it on the ash tray, letting the roach burn out before he grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

“I gotta go.” His smile was soft, almost apologetic and you smiled back at him.

With a sigh you leant against the headboard, stretching out your legs and holding the sheets against your body as you watched him pull his boxers over his thighs.

The same anxious feeling began to brew inside you and you bit your lip, contemplating whether or not you should speak your mind. Maybe it wasn't the right time. But when was it ever the right time? Angel was always busy with the club and between his lifestyle and yours, the time you had together was scarce and mostly spent amongst the sheets. You may not get another chance to ask him for a while, and you knew if you let these feelings brew they would only escalate further. You knew all too well that uncertainty was the downfall of many relationships, if thats even what this was.

You cleared your throat. “Hey, Angel? Can i ask you something.”

Angel flashed you a glance as he pulled his jeans up and buckled his belt.

“Whats up, mama?”

You took a deep breath. Maybe you should thought about how to actually ask what you wanted to ask.

“Are we..” You let your voice trail of as you struggled to find the words.

Before you could continue, his phone buzzed on the bed side table.

Angel sighed and snatched it.

“Yeah?” He snapped. You brought your hand to your mouth, brushing your fingers over your lips, where Angel had spent hours kissing them last night. 

You couldn't hear who was on the other end but you knew it would be one of his brothers, calling him in for duty. 

“Yeah I’ll be there.” He ended the call.

Angel slid the phone into the pocket of his jeans. “I’m sorry mama, I gotta go.” He said as he reached for his shirt. “What did you wanna ask me?”

You sat up and took a deep breath. “This,, thing between us. Is it exclusive?”

Angel frowned. “‘Course it is. Why, you been fuckin other guys?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “But I know the club.. I know sometimes..”

You struggled to find the words and you looked down at your hands while Angel pulled the shirt over his head.

“Spit it out, ma.”

“I need to know if you're fucking other girls.”

Angel shook his head and started to speak but you continured.

“I know what the club is like. Theres always girls hanging around at parties, on runs. Theres always temptation and its fine, its whatever.. But if you're fucking them I need to know.”

Angel knelt on the bed and cupped your face, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks.

“I ain’t fuckin’ anybody else, princesa. Only you. You're my girl.”

Finally you looked at him. His eyes were sincere and full of love and you felt your insecurities wash away. Nodding you pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back, his lips moving with yours and when you slipped your tongue into his mouth he groaned.

“Don’t start, querida.” He said against your lips. “I gotta go.”

That evening you sat on the couch, your shows playing on the  tv while you sipped a beer. Though the tv was on, your mind was elsewhere. Too often Angel consumed your thoughts and you couldn’t help but smile as you remembered his words this morning. 

You’re my girl.

 Angel was still at the clubhouse, most likely having a beer with his brothers, but you knew he'd come over when he had a chance. You grabbed your phone and quickly typed a message.

💬 I’m sorry I got anxious

💬 I just needed validation

It wasn't long before your phone buzzed and you glanced down at the screen.

📲 I’ll validate the fuck outta you

📲 Get you a lil membership card

📲 For bein my girl

📲 stamp stamp

You smirked at the screen, a blush rising to your cheeks and you bit your lip as you typed.

💬 You're such a dork

📲 Yeah

📲 But I'm all yours mami

There was always something slightly ominous about a gas station at midnight. A place that was usually hustling with travellers stocking up, refueling their tanks and heading off in search of their own adventures. But as the light of the day was replaced with the unrelenting darkness of night, Ilana Ortiz found herself alone, as she often did. She raised her hand, stifling a yawn as her gaze flickered to the petrol pump, eyeing the numbers as they rose. The hum of the pump pouring petrol into the tank of her car sputtered to a stop and she lifted the nozzle, shaking off the remains before returning it to the hook.

In the distance she heard them. Steadily growing louder as they approached. She knew the sound all too well, once the soundtrack of days spent in happiness all those years ago. The thunderous drone approached and she closed her eyes, basking in the memories that flooded her. Crashing into her mind like waves, dragging her out into the deep. Her fingers grasped the locket hanging around her neck and she took a deep breath as she opened her eyes. The breeze shifted, blowing a strand of dark hair across her face and she watched as they approached.

Half a dozen motorcycles, most of them low riders, spread out in a staggered formation as they thundered down the highway, with only the open road laid bare before them. One by one they sped past her, and Lana couldn’t help but think of them as ghosts from her past, the faces that would be forever etched into her memory haunting those of the strangers that rode before her now. The darkness of night hindered her ability to make out the patches on the riders backs, but they were there, their presence ever looming.

There was once a time where the presence of a motorcycle club had been a welcoming sight, surrounding her with a feeling of warmth and belonging, rather than the emotional sorrow that she felt deep in her soul. But those times were just memories now, chapters in a dark and lonely book that she didn’t have the strength to read again and so she closed it tight and left it to gather dust.

It took a few months for Ilana to settle into Santo Padre. Slowly, the shelves in her small apartment were filled with various ornaments that she gathered from local market stalls and thrift stores. While it was far from the apartment of Lana's dreams, it was affordable and in a reasonably good neighbourhood, and for now, at least, it was home.

She didn't have a lot of personal possessions, had never been one for materialistic items. There were only two things that she took with her wherever she went. The first, was the locket around her neck. Inside lived a black and white photo of her late mother, wearing a smile that had been passed on to her children. The second was a photograph, its edges frayed and worn. In it stood two siblings, matching smiles on their youthful faces as they stood beside each other, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Juan Carlos and Ilana Rose Ortiz.

For as long as she could remember it had been the two of them. After their mother passed away they only really had each other and when Juan had decided to leave Queens and move to California, Ilana had been right by his side.

There was something about the small town of Charming, and the people that lived there that beckoned to the Ortiz siblings. And it was there that they made a home. Ilana found a job doing admin work at the local hospital, whilst Juice worked at the local garage.

After a few months he had told her he was prospecting for the Sons Of Anarchy, and she hadn’t exactly been thrilled. It was a dangerous lifestyle, and she couldn’t lose the only person she had left in this world. Juan had tried to put her mind at ease. He told her they would be safe, that they would look out for him and he would look out for them. He told her they would be happy here. And they were, for a while.

Slowly this band of misfits and outlaws truly did become family, a concept that had once felt so foreign. They finally belonged somewhere, and they were finally happy. But nothing lasts forever.

She couldn't quite pinpoint the moment things went wrong. But something changed when the Sons of Anarchy did their fourteen month stint in Stockton State Penitentiary. Things were changing, and none of them could have predicted just how dark things would turn.

Soon, the club that had once seemed so solid, so welcoming, turned into something dark and bitter and it fell apart at the seams. The binds that tied them were thick with betrayal and mistrust and she could only watch as one by one they fell like dominoes.

Whilst Ilana had spent years in Charming, she never pretended to know all the ins and outs of the club's business. Nor did she want to know. She knew there were rules, and ways in which certain things had to be handled. But above all else, she knew her brother. And she knew he didn't deserve what happened to him.

After the loss of her brother, Ilana spent a long time in that first stage of grief. In denial that this world could be so horribly cruel. Everything she had ever known had been ripped from her and she didn't know what she was supposed to do next; The town was too small for all the ghosts that lived in it and everywhere she looked, she saw death and pain. Memories of once joyful times turned to rot. And so she left.

She spent the next few years travelling, never staying in one place too long. To some people it may have looked like she was running away from her pain and those people weren't wrong. But Ilana liked to think of herself as an explorer, living out the adventures she had read about in the books of her childhood.

Eventually she grew weary of living out of her suitcase, and she found herself homesick, yearning for a home that no longer existed. She found solace in the sunshine state, and when a job opportunity presented itself in Southern California she took it. She found herself an apartment, albeit a rather shitty one, but it was somewhere to live nonetheless and Ilana found comfort in having a consistent income and a familiar place to lay her head.

Ilana smiled at the market stall vendors as she passed them by, gazing over the varieties of fresh produce they displayed so vibrantly. She purchased a selection of vegetables and fruit, slowly filling the woven basket in her hands. A display of fresh mangoes caught her gaze and she looked them over, picking out the ones she would buy.

“Miss Ilana?”

At the mention of her name, she turned.

“Chucky?”

Chuck Marstein wasn’t a face that was easily forgotten. Although, it was probably more to do with his distinct lack of fingers and his mechanical hands than his actual face, which was often apprehensive.

Four years had passed since they had seen each other, and he was aware that the way in which they were once acquainted had been the root of her sorrow. He looked at her nervously, as if he expected anger from her. But that anger he had grown to expect from people didn’t exist in Lana, and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Chucky!” The grin on her face matched his, her eyes sparkling with the threat of tears. “What are you doing here! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Since your brother's funeral.” He nodded.

Lana nodded along with him, finding slight amusement in Chuckys lack of filter. Most people tip-toed around the mention of her brother, but not him.

“You left Charming?”

“Si,” The sadness that flashed in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. But Lana knew all too well that things in that small town, and in that life, were often complex, and now wasn’t the time to pry.

“But you’re okay?” Lana asked softly. “You’re working?”

“Si, mamacita.Romero Brothers Scrap and Salvage yard. I am always working hard” He rolled his ‘r’s excessively and Lana smiled at the familiar rhyming, as if his sentence was his own catchphrase.

“And what are you doing here?”

“I got a job doing admin work in town. It's not much, but it pays the bills.”

His phone rang out loudly, and Chucky flashed her a look of apology.

“Yello?”

Ilana hid her smile as he answered the call, looking away to give him some privacy. They had been close once, back in Charming. She had spent a lot of time at the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse, helping out Gemma in the office as she needed it. More often than not she was paired with Chucky to run errands, and she had enjoyed getting to know him. He was quirky, in many ways, but he was a kind soul and all he really wanted was to belong, something which resonated with Ilana.

“Absolutamante,” He said, and ended the call.

“I have to go, Miss Lana. Duty calls.”

Lana nodded understandably and held out her hand. “Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in it.”

He nodded, handing the device over and watching as her fingers tapped at the screen.

“Give me a call when you’re free and we can get dinner or something. Catch up, properly.”

“Really?” He asked, in genuine disbelief. “You would want to?”

Lana smiled at him. “Of course, Chucky. You’ve always been one of my best friends.”

The smile that spread over his face was like that of a child on Christmas morning and Lana couldn’t help but beam back at him, her heart warming.

“I will call you, for dinner.”

“I look forward to it, Chucky.”

It wasn’t long before Ilana heard from Chucky again.

In fact it was only that same afternoon that her phone had rung and his voice was on the other end of the line. She was glad to hear from him, albeit a lot sooner than she had anticipated, but she invited him to her apartment for dinner nonetheless.

She was already out in town, and after spotting a sign that read ‘Carniceria Reyes’, she decided to pick up something to cook. With a glance in each direction she jogged across the road before entering the shop.

It was nearing closing time, and Ilana could see that most of the meat had been packed away, or purchased already. Her eyes scanned what was left on offer as her mind ticked over what she could cook, her abilities in the kitchen being far from expert.

“What can I get for you?”

Ilana glanced up and smiled warmly at the wizened man behind the counter. His smile was warm and welcoming, though the creases on his forehead told of worries, both past and present and there was a forlorn glaze in his twinkling eyes.

“Hi, I’ll just take a couple of those steaks, please?”

The man nodded and slid open the window at the back of the counter.

“How’s your day been?” Ilana made conversation as she glanced around the small store.

Her gaze fell on a selection of books and she smiled as she walked over to them.

He cleared his throat. “It’s been good, busy.” The man said as he packaged the meat. He watched her curiously as she studied the old books, and the delicate way in which she traced her fingers over the titles.

“Are these all yours?” She asked, as she carefully lifted a worn copy of Alejandra Pizarnik’s poetry. It had been well loved, made obvious by the creases on the cover, and the yellowed, dog eared pages.

“Most of them belonged to my wife.”

Ilana smiled as she studied the inscription scrawled inside the cover. It was in español, which she couldn’t read despite her Puerto Rican heritage, but she always found something magical in old books, especially those with messages of love or well wishes written inside the cover.

“She has quite a collection.”

The man smiled and nodded towards the book in her hands. “You’re welcome to borrow it.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Please,” He smiled at her. “They should be read, not left here to gather dust and the smell of meat.”

Ilana laughed lightly and nodded, slipping the book carefully into her bag. “Thank you, uh?”

“Felipe.”

Her purchases were ready now, wrapped carefully in brown paper and he placed them on top of the counter.

“Thank you, Felipe.” She smiled as she handed him some cash. “I’m Ilana.”

“Please, keep the change.” She lifted the parcel in her hands as she headed to the door. “It was nice to meat you.”

Felipe chuckled and waved as she walked out of the shop, shaking his head at the interaction.

“Who was that?”

Felipe looked up to see his son EZ, the same smile on his face as he wore on his own, stepping out from the shadows.

“New customer.” Felipe said as he walked to the door and flipped the ‘open’ sign to closed. “Cmon, Jimenez will be here soon.”