Family. It was the one thing she wanted and it was the one thing she didn’t have. At least not since she’d been locked up. She figured her parents were still alive, not having received any word otherwise, but then again her parents had washed their hands of her years ago. She didn’t even think they knew where to find her.<br/><br/>It had been an interesting year, one in which she finally felt like she had found her<i>family</i>. A random invitation to a party had turned into a fight after some annoying drunk had found her ass too irresistible not to grab. She never would have thought that beating the shit out of some ass-grabbing twerp would have gained her a prospect jacket and the possibility of a family. It was later that night when she was icing her hand and her face and nursing a beer that a heavily tattooed man had approached her about becoming a prospect for the Burning Mutineers. After some conversation,<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fphotos.modelmayhem.com%2Fphotos%2F080408%2F06%2F47fb4c49da35d_m.jpg&amp;hash=2e7904664038538febda8bfd267cfcb8" href="https://photos.modelmayhem.com/photos/080408/06/47fb4c49da35d_m.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Maddie</a>had finally realized that Rob was dead serious about sponsoring her.<br/><br/>And so the year of bitch work had begun. Whatever they needed to be done, she did whether it was taking out trash both literally and figuratively, digging holes to bury bodies, running errands, or guarding whatever needed to be guarded. It was exhausting and tiring but over time, she’d come to see Big Pop and Banshee as the parents she wanted.<br/><br/>The party was in full swing. She wanted nothing more than to relax and have a beer but it wasn’t her time yet. She’d done some time behind the bar, popping beers and making sure everyone was well on their way to fully inebriated and trying to keep up with all the empties. The past year had been good for her after her prison stint. It had focused her anger and calmed the beast inside. Somewhat.<br/><br/>Rob’s booming voice pulled her from her wandering thoughts, making her blink a few times. What the fuck did he want? Ah, club business. The one thing that took precedence over whatever else might be going on. She dropped the bag of trash then twisted a little to pop her back before following along behind the man who had become her mentor.<br/><br/>The look on Pop’s face and his command to take off her jacket confused her.  Rob was already removing the prospect jacket as the icy fingers of rejection began to inch their way through her gut. She had done<i>everything</i>they had asked of her. And now this?  That cold feeling was quickly replaced by a hot rush of anger. Just as that familiar red was starting to drop over her vision, the scent of fresh leather tickled her nose followed by a sense of relief washing over her. A smirk twisted the corner of her mouth as she leaned into the kiss on her forehead. Not abandoned. Accepted. It had been so long since she’d felt that way.<br/><br/>Big Pop and Banshee whispered words in her ears, words that were just for her. There was only one response she could give. “Fuck yeah I do!” Before she fully understood what had just happened, someone pushed a bottle into her hand. With a smirk and a cheer, she upended the beer and chugged a large portion of it.<br/><br/>Across the room,<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fpbs.twimg.com%2Fprofile_images%2F886588839816343554%2FyZamOU6p.jpg&amp;hash=6db3c7c83c367ce7b307cf941cda051c" href="https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/886588839816343554/yZamOU6p.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Britt </a>watched and she seethed. She hated how her boyfriend spent so much time with that tattooed bitch. It felt like they were always together. The club came first to him and Britt was the kind of woman who did not appreciate being put second to anything. It meant nothing to her that he had been sitting with her for a good portion of the night, his arm draped across her shoulders. It meant nothing to her that he made sure to kiss her cheek before he slipped away. To any normal woman, those would be blatant signs to the world that he was hers and she was his. Unfortunately, Britt was a<i>jealous</i>woman.<br/><br/>She watched how Rob’s fingers seemed to touch Maddie in more than a friendly manner as he slid the prospect jacket off her shoulders and she seethed. She watched how Big Pop and Banshee accepted this woman as part of the club the way they had never accepted her and she seethed. And then she watched how<i>her</i>boyfriend kissed the other woman’s forehead and she saw red. More than anything she didn’t understand what made Madeleine so damn special. So she could fight? Who cared? She had been to prison. Big whoop. Who gave a shit about Miss Maddie Portman? Certainly not Britt.<br/><br/>While they celebrated their new member, Britt sat on a bar stool at the far end of the scuffed up bar that lined one wall of the clubhouse and drank beer after beer while smoking cigarette after cigarette. Each successive blast of booze and nicotine fed the anger building deep in the pit of her stomach. After who knows how many beers and at least a half a pack of smokes, she couldn’t hold back anymore.<br/><br/>More than just a little tipsy, the angry girlfriend slid from her stool. Finding her balance was tricky but she managed, only wavering slightly in her stance. Across the room she went, bumping into people like a drunken pinball. Her eyes were locked on her wayward boyfriend and she was bound and determined to get to him. Some of the other guys, the ones not in the club, saw her weaving her way toward Rob and began to nudge the people around them. There was about to be some drama.<br/><br/>Britt got to where he was standing and paused for a moment, staring at him drunkenly. She exhaled in a huff as her hand flew up and slapped him in the face, the resounding<b>crack</b>echoing around the room.