Bailey "The Bullet" Teller (UNDER EDITING)

HomeSweetHome

I slept for most of my flight. After being placed next to the most arrogant piece of shit business man possible. For some reason, he thought that it was a good idea to Skype his business partner at 3am in the morning. I figured if I didn't sleep I would have ended up getting took out by an air marshal for putting my fist through his skull instead.

I got off the plane happily not having to worry about getting luggage in the horrific scene that was about to play out in the airport. Instead I went to where my bike and luggage was. It was Less than five minutes away.

When I got to where my things were, I ripped open my bag and pulled out my cut and slipped in on. The feeling of the cool leather on my skin was somewhat satisfying. I've always wore a cut. Even when I was younger. Clay got me one for my 10th Birthday. All it had was a reaper and a 'mistress of mayhem' patch sewn on. I never took it off.

I remember sassing the principle about it, he told me 'gang colours are unacceptable for the school environment'. And to that I rolled my eyes and said 'I whole heartedly agree with you. Good thing that we aren't a gang. We are motorcycle Enthusiasts' and I turned myself around and walked straight out of the principal's office leaving my mother proud as hell and the principle humiliated that they got outsmarted by and eleven-year-old girl.

I had my stuff to be delivered over the next few days. There wasn't that much. Just clothes. A few duffel bags. Just couldn't carry it all on my back. Just as I was about to sign for the delivery a young guy came up to me.

"You can't wear that" he spoke with a nervous voice. I turned around and saw him pointing at my cut.

"Yes I can" I laughed. I looked at his cut. He's a prospect. He wouldn't know my face now so I cant blame him.

"No you can't. We don't have any girl members. You're faking. Clay will be so pissed. You'll get hurt" he said panicking.

"Clays my step dad. Ever heard of Bullet?" I said looking blankly at him. He didn't register what I said.

"Oh shit. I'm so sorry. Here let me grab your bags. I'm in a van anyway. Picking up some stuff sent by the Irish. They said to keep an eye out for a girl" He apologised picking up my bags and shoving them in his car. He then signed for a big crate and put it in his trunk. Probably bullets or gun related.

"kid... im the girl you got told to look out for" I chuckled. I remember being prospect. Youre constantly on edge. Even though my prospecting year was basically me being a full patched member.

"I'm kip. AKA half sack. I'm guessing your Bailey? " he questioned. I nodded. "Welcome back to charming"

I hopped on my bike and followed the prospect for 10 minutes until I got familiar with where I was, let my bike go as fast as it could, and over took him.

It's nice to be home.