Karma's Happenstance Part 2 (Nikki Sixx/OC/Guns n Roses)

Biker trash and drug dealers

Nikki's POV

This is like a fucking Deja Vu.
I can't believe I'm sitting on a plane again, off to rescue a girl from the hands of some religious freaks. Only it's my girl this time and it's her fucking father I'm gonna be rescuing her from.

Izzy is sitting in front of me again, looking out of the window while I'm a nervous, chain-smoking wreck. I remember rescuing MJ was way more fun than this. Maybe it was because I was high like shit when we got there. Doing this sober is like fucking hell. I can't stop thinking about her and I can't stop worrying if she's okay.

"This is fucking torture, huh?" Izzy asks, flashing me a humorless smile.
Is this fucker psychic or what?

"What?" I ask, playing dumb.

"Not knowing if she's gonna be okay." He mumbles, lightning himself a smoke. "Not so fucking funny if it's your girl who needs the saving."

I give him a snort in response. Things would be so much easier if that fucker wasn't so right about this.

"You remember when you told me rock n roll was all the fuck you knew in this world?" Izzy goes on.

"I liked you better when you didn't talk so fucking much." I huff.

"I get that, you know?" He says with a smirk I would gladly slap out of his face. "It's easier just not to give a fuck. But even you must admit it's way nicer to feel this way now."

I crock a brow, "Feel how?"

"Love." He says with a dumb-ass smile. "And it's even nicer if you get it in return."

I try to hide a smile because he's right. What the fuck is going on? Is Stradlin the fucking Dalai Lama now or what?

"You ever shut up?" I huff at him but I'm sure he saw me smiling. The rest of the flight mainly consists of clouding the plane cabin up with cigarette smoke. I'm so fucking scared of what kind of shape I may find Amy in. I choke back tears several times. Izzy knows how I feel. And he knows that talking isn't as helpful as sheer silence.

We land in Indianapolis. I rent us a limo and we head north east to Lafayette. By this point my guts are trying to work their way up my throat. I may puke. Fuck you Yakinamundo. My fingernails are bloody nubs. I have never felt so nervous or scared in my whole life.

"A fucking limousine, Sixx? Seriously?" Izzy leans back into his seat with a sigh as we drive through hick-town.

I sip my drink while I look out of the window, taking it all in. So that's where Axl Rose and Izzy Stradlin grew up, huh?
Un-fucking-believable! I throw a quick side glance towards Izzy who's still babbling shit. It almost seems like he's fucking nervous or something.

"Can you be more fucking obvious? A fucking limousine..." Izzy mumbles with a smoke dangling from his lips.

I give him a snort, "So what? I'm a fucking rock star. Why the fuck shouldn't I drive a fucking limousine, man?"

He looks at me like I'm fucking insane. What the hell is his problem?

2Is this your master plan, Sixx? Driving up to her house in a fucking limousine and play the rock star card?"  Izzy shakes his head. "You've no idea how people in small towns work, do you?"

I look at him confused. Why the fuck shouldn't I drive a fucking limo? I really don't get it.

"You have a fucking plan to this, don't you?" Izzy goes on.

All he gets from me is a shrug. Sure I have a plan. I'll knock on that fucking door, get my girl and get the fuck out of this shit hole. If her fucking father decides to intervene, I knock him out. That's it. My fucking plan. Sounds very simple to me.
Before I can open my mouth to fill Stradlin in to my genius rescuing plan, I hear sirens from behind the limo and the driver is pulling over.