The Killer Bartender | sons of anarchy

eight

I swallowed hard, my mind working frantically to construct a plausible lie. "Look, I may have known these men, but I had no reason to harm them. They were involved in a dangerous world, and maybe someone wanted them gone. But it wasn't me."

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Potter studied me intently. Every word I spoke felt like a thread of deceit, woven delicately to conceal the truth. I knew the risks of the path I had chosen, and now, I had to continue down that treacherous road.

Potter leaned back, a hint of frustration crossing his face. "We'll find the truth, Ms. Galindo. And when we do, I hope you're prepared to face the consequences."

As the interrogation came to an end, I was left with a mix of relief and apprehension. My words had bought me temporary respite, but the noose of suspicion tightened around my neck. The weight of my lies pressed upon me, reminding me of the dangerous dance I was engaged in, where one misstep could lead to my downfall.

•••

As I stepped out of the police station, a mix of relief and uncertainty washed over me. They had no evidence to charge me with the murders of Sergei and Aleksandr Orlov, but the weight of guilt still lingered in the back of my mind. How did they know? How was I set up? These questions gnawed at my conscience, urging me to seek answers.

I scanned the area, and my eyes fell upon Happy, leaning against his motorcycle, waiting for me. His expression was a blend of anger and concern, a reflection of the tumultuous emotions swirling within me. As I approached him, I couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability, knowing that the truth I was about to reveal might change everything between us.

"Hey," I greeted, my voice laced with apprehension.

Happy's gaze softened slightly, his eyes searching mine for answers. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gruff yet laced with genuine concern.

I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "I need to tell you the truth, Happy," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He gestured towards his motorcycle. "Get on. Let's talk somewhere private," he said, his voice low yet commanding.

I climbed onto the back of his motorcycle, wrapping my arms around his waist as we rode in silence. The wind whipped through my hair, and the hum of the engine provided a temporary respite from the turmoil within me. Soon, we arrived at my house, and as I led Happy inside, I braced myself for what was to come.

Once inside the confines of my home, I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest. "I wasn't completely honest with you," I began, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and vulnerability. "I did know the Orlov brothers, and I did have a motive for their deaths."

Happy's eyes narrowed, a mix of confusion and anger flickering in his gaze. "Why would you lie to me, Marisol?" he demanded, his voice filled with hurt.

I took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm, seeking solace and forgiveness. "I didn't want to drag you into this mess, Happy," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "I thought by keeping you in the dark, I could protect you."

His expression softened slightly, his anger tempered by a flicker of understanding. "Protect me from what, Marisol? What happened with the Orlovs?"

Taking a deep breath, I mustered the courage to reveal the truth, knowing that it would forever change the dynamics between us. "My father, Jose Galindo, ordered their deaths," I confessed, my voice filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I was caught in the crossfire of his dangerous world, and now I'm paying the price."

Silence enveloped the room as Happy processed the magnitude of my revelation. The weight of my confession hung heavy in the air, overshadowing any hopes of a future together. Would he turn away from me, unable to reconcile the darkness that clung to my life?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Happy spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't say I understand everything, Marisol, but I'm here for you," he said, his words a lifeline amidst the chaos. "We'll figure this out together."

Relief flooded through me, tears welling in my eyes as I embraced Happy, grateful for his unwavering support. In that moment, despite the darkness that surrounded us, I felt a glimmer of hope, a ray of light cutting through the shadows. Together, we would face the storm that lay ahead, bound by a connection

My heart raced as I led Happy down into the depths of my basement, a hidden sanctuary that held my secrets and provided a glimpse into the life I had tried so desperately to keep hidden. The room was filled with cutting-edge technology, rows of files documenting my previous hits, and a meticulously organized wall of weaponry. Happy's eyes widened in astonishment, his silence speaking volumes.

"This is... unbelievable," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of awe and disbelief. "You've been keeping all this from us, from me."

I took a deep breath, my hands trembling slightly. "I wanted to protect you, Happy," I admitted, my voice filled with sincerity. "I didn't want you to be dragged into this."

His eyes met mine, and I could see the flicker of understanding in his gaze. "Marisol, you should have trusted me," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "We're a family, the club. "

Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to touch his hand, seeking solace in his warmth. "I know I made a mistake," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "But I promise you, Happy, I'll tell the club the truth. I'll make things right."

Instead of responding with words, Happy closed the distance between us and kissed me fiercely, igniting a fire within me that I had long suppressed. Our lips moved in sync, a passionate dance fueled by desire and the weight of unspoken emotions. In that moment, everything faded away—the secrets, the danger, the darkness. There was only the two of us, lost in the intensity of the moment.

As our bodies pressed against each other, clothes hastily discarded.

Later, as we lay in each other's arms, our breaths still ragged from the intensity of our connection, the weight of the world momentarily lifted. I looked into Happy's eyes, searching for the reassurance and forgiveness I so desperately sought.

"We can't keep this hidden, Happy," I said softly, my voice tinged with determination. "I need to face the consequences of my actions, and the club deserves to know the truth."

He caressed my cheek, his touch gentle yet firm. "I'll stand by you, Marisol," he said, his voice filled with unwavering support. "We'll face whatever comes our way together."

The conversation drifted into whispered promises and tender exchanges as the night embraced us, offering a respite from the chaos that awaited us in the days to come. In the warmth of each other's embrace, we found solace, strength, and a renewed sense of purpose.