Miss Crow -{Sons of Anarchy/Mayans}-

2. Wild Child

Hot steam filled the large bathroom, curling around my bare shoulders. Reaching up, I gathered up my wet hair and gave it a twist, squeezing the water out of it. Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I reached into the tub and shut off the water. 

Humming under my breath, I reached over and wiped the condensation off of the fogged-up mirror. Gazing at my reflection, I grimaced.

"Disgusting..." I muttered, grabbing a towel. After quickly drying my hair I ran my fingers through my wet tresses, swiftly detangling them. I wrapped the used towel around my body, fastening it securely.

Leaving the bathroom, I padded down the hallway, my feet cushioned by the soft rug. Hearing the distinctive ring of my phone, I broke into a sprint.

Bursting into my bedroom, I snatched my phone off of the desk. I flipped it open and brought it up to my pierced ear.

"Esai, hey."

"Hey, baby. You all set for tonight?"

"Mhm. We're having a big dinner, so house wont empty out for a long while. Can you pick me up past midnight?"

"Sure can. I'mma park at the usual spot."

"Okay. Looking forward to seeing you..." I admitted with a smile. Hearing a shuffle on the other end, accompanied by faint talking in Spanish, I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Yeah, me too. Listen, I gotta go. I'll text you when I'm close." Esai hung up. Sighing, I lowered my phone, closing it. 

"Esai. Esai." chirped Blu. Groaning, I collapsed into my desk chair. Just great.

Hearing a knock on the ajar door, I sat up straight. Mom poked her head inside, throwing me a smile.

"Hurry up and put something on. You promised to make your famous salad." she reminded me.

"Oh, right. I'll be right down." I promised, swiftly getting out of the chair. 

She closed the door and I listened to her retreating footsteps. Dropping the towel from my body, I quickly got dressed in the clothes I had previously laid out on my bed—a pair of light wash skinny jeans and a nice white blouse. I slipped on a pair of black flats and draped my towel over the back of the desk chair. Leaving my hair damp and unbrushed, I left the room.

Once downstairs, I got to work in the kitchen. Taking out all the required ingredients, I set them down on the granite countertop. I started preparing the salad, occasionally glancing at mom and her progress on the pineapple upside-down cake.

Clay passed by the counter, reaching into the bowl and stealing a piece of kale. Mom lightly smacked his arm.

"Hey, manners." she scolded, a smile on her face.

Clay ate the leaf cabbage, replying, "Glad this isn't the only thing we're serving or the guys would cut my head off."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, laughing. "My kale salad is the shit."

"Besides, green is good." added mom, kissing Clay's cheek. She picked up the pan and slipped it into the oven, setting a timer.

Hearing the collective roar of approaching motorcycles, I quickly added the ranch dressing to the bowl. Mixing the salad, I watched mom and Clay finish putting everything on the long dining room table. Once the salad was thoroughly mixed I picked up the large bowl and carried it into the dining room, setting it down on the table.

Soon the house was bustling with SAMCRO members. Laughter and jokes filled the air, circling in the energized atmosphere. My salad was a hit, like always, although many of the guys would not dare admit just how much they liked it.