#I CANT WAIT FOR THE BAR IIIII CAAAAANT WAIIITTT FOR THE BAR EVENTS OMGGGGGGGGGG

[midnightscxre]

Tingles whipped the senses, the heart leapt and played a war drum that thunderously deafened the ears as the redhead witnessed the embodiment of domination. Quick and ready like the index finger on the trigger of a revolver, like those old cowboys whose hand twitch no one sees until it's too late, and the crimson color blooms between the loser's eyes, betraying the bullet that pierced the skull and stole a life.

Rarely anyone or anything could boast the description 'I fascinated her' when it came to the temperamental woman. Her interest was wide-ranging, versatility crowned the head like a tiara full of jewels that have been preserved for generations, but she had neither the privilege nor the good fortune to be swept off her feet, to watch without the ability to breathe or move for a full minute and drown in the nectar of feelings that she did not know that chemical processes in the body can cause.

Clare was a assertive person, demanding the respect and submissiveness of her surroundings with only her aura. A menacing vibe followed her like a shadow, even when she didn't say a word, her energy field consumed others. . . that's why when she hit the cold wall of the obstacle, felt the axes of resistance sharper than her own, energy full of strength, power, ability and fortitude, she was inexorably drawn to that inexhaustible source of wonders like magnetic fields. If she could put it simply, she always knew that she needed someone stronger than her, regardless of whether she would ever admit that strength. Not something as simply as physical ability, but someone who will be able to embrace the thorns of her behavior and not avoid it, who does not dread the dead or the living, and even when he is met suddenly with danger and the prospects are not satisfactory, he stands his ground. Shock of Jace's appearance had little to do with the inability to produce a sound that was silently demanded by the man with the expression as a bull would have after seeing red, it had all to do with just that -- being completely smitten by who Vince was.

There was no replacing the original. God knows she tried, desperation to cure herself from the poison of longing for his presence demanding a ' suitable substitute '. Which didn't exist -- messy blond hair on top of a chiseled body granted her no serenity, only deepened the hole of anguish when she realized that tinder date was a cry for a cheap knock off to fill more than it ever could. This in front of her, the spirit of a warrior whose flames rage with no retreat.

It was impossible to get out of the clutches of the realizations and scenes that were reminiscent of sitcoms. Seconds grew into minutes, and Clare was lost in the choirs of voices not belonging to her, but the ' newcomer ' didn't share such state of coma.

Jace Catto was not a gullible or naive man. There was a good reason why members of his motorcycling family used to jokingly call him the ' lie detector '. The man with golden strands and unreadable facial expressions was blessed with the gift of extremely accurate reading of a person. Every corner full of secrets, skeletons in closets, they were forced to come under the torch and into the light of his inspection. The perception ranged from body movements, speech, reactions, choice of words -- everything was carefully and meticulously dissected on the table of his mind.

Even though he didn't react to a single indication of potential rivalry and alpha attitude that couldn't be washed off the now relaxed man like a stain of red wine, it didn't mean that he didn't notice it. ' Tail tucking between the legs' was something Jace taught those who needed it, but the man in front of him couldn't even imagine how lucky he was. Lack of responses to the intense behavior could only be attributed to the uniqueness of this situation. President of Devil's stranglers had no intention of shoving his nose in Clare's love affairs, if one could call it that, but in secret he hoped one day she will give actual love a try. . . resulting in such change in his usual behavior.

Simple nod from the stranger on Jace's apology for the intrusion indicated thin nerves being mended back to health with a moment of silence, reaching for the sweet poison he himself considered medicine for stress. The scattered first aid kits on the table, the old, stained bandages by the guitar and the clean gauze deftly wrapped around Vince's wrists sang like a muse to Homer about the ' dark' side of the man that introduced himself as Vincent Kraus. But then again, patience was the suit Jace chose to wear, for one purpose only -- for Clare's potential interest in which he will not interfere. . . yet.

Puckish grin instantly rose under neatly trimmed mustache on Vince's question. There we are. Jealousy poured through the pores of restraint, Jace could see it on Vince clear as day. Not that he had the right to say anything, possessiveness one of his biggest flaws.

" Family, so to say. "

Too quick, too bold, too honest. . . choice of words given a harsh dose of reality.

" Very rich. "

It fell from the plump charry colored lips, cutting the heart of the hardened man. Ashy blond eyebrows furrowed, facial expression crafting a mask of seriousness, hiding the guilt reborn from her words. Clare forgave Jace for leaving, but there were limits to the ' openness ' she allowed for him to describe how close they are. Family? Family sticks together, and his choices were the opposite. Allowing this to linger in the air between them, Jace fished the crumpled pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, getting ready to produce an answer, but instead, was met with a dash of fresh air. Spitting out the laughter, having no control over the honest way it escaped the throat when Vince sank the teeth of innocent provocation into Clare. This lad had balls. Big ones.

Steam was coming out of her ears, her eyes narrowed into small lines as she crossed her arms in repulsion over the ample chest. " Never told you you can come either. " Clare snapped, trying to regain rains control of a situation that had long since slipped away from her fingers. Admonishing glare fell on cracking Jace, but had no impact as usual.

" Joe did ask for a couple of hands to unload the mechanic bull and the rest, would be a shame to miss the opportunity to recruit a pair of capable one. " Head nodding towards the busted knuckles of the man. " See you don't mind getting your hands dirty, not a stranger to hard work. Hundred bucks and a free beer for carrying a few things into the bar sounds fair to you, mate? " Finding someone to unload a truck in five minutes for a dollar bill with two zeros seamed as an easy task -- but you could never be too careful who you allow to witness a turnk filled with stolen goods. A test, first one, given by Jace.

" C'mn Clare, you were waiting for that damn bull for weeks. You gonna give it away that easily? " Engraved zippo found itself in the rough hands of the MC president, lighting the sweetness of tobacco.

Sharpened nails sinking in her elbows. She was done with this, there was no use, and standing there feeling powerless was no longer an option. Curved silhouette moved swiftly, passing next to Vince, hitting his shoulder with hers without a care before grabbing her guitar and stepping toward the hallway.

" Have a ride mate or you going with her ? "

Burning holes in Jace's skull with the emerald greens followed.

" You have a lot of space behind you, Jace. Saw you driving asses much larger than his on your precious Harley. "

" Yeah but I doubt he has a pair of thongs on him. Can't say he is my type. " Jace smirked in a playful manner, determined to get the man a ride in Clare's beloved American muscle. Exhaling the last of her nerves, quick steps delivered her to the joking man, palm slamming on brawny chest as a rattle of keys was heard.

" You take him then, ' mate '. Here's the car. " Hand released the car keys and the man caught them in the last moment before they hit the floor.

" Can't do that, gotta see Pyke first. . . that thing with the construction firm got a bit off track. It's my first stop before Maddox. " Honest contradiction. Not even Clare stood in the way of his shady business. There were limits even to that, and putting Jace in danger of a life-sentence because she wanted to save herself from further embarrassment didn't prevail in the election. Frustration consumed her when she grab back the keys, passing him by and heading for the door.

" I won't wait for you, so you better hurry. "

Hourglass shape disappeared in the shadows, leaving the door open. Tilting his head towards Vince, Jace still had a slight smug grin on the dry lips sucking on the cigarette.

" That went well. " the man jokingly concluded. " I guess I'll see ya at Maddox. Go behind the building, you'll see a storage unit next to the iron door of the bar. I'll be there along with the truck. " Not waiting for an answer he started moving toward the exit of the apartment as well. " I would hurry if I were you, she ain't joking when she said she will not wait for you. Trust me. "

Oh. She'd got him there, a mutual jab at the words he threw towards her. Something that was to be expected. It did bother him; his wall crumbling in that moment and causing his jaw to clench out of irritation, being the first to convey some truth behind his feelings. It didn't matter which woman he took along with him; they didn't compare. He would hardly even acknowledge them, but lately he hadn't been passed around much, if at all, because it didn't fill the void as it once did. It almost became repetitive. A bore. He could sense himself changing, and it was terrifying, sucking him dry like some parasitical vampire, wondering if it were for the better or for the worst.

Knowing he'd dug himself into an even deeper hole than the beginning yet continued to remain unfazed. Prepared for the storm that was coming since the lie he'd quipped up backfired worse than the one he went with the first time. When he'd retrieved his cigarettes as planned, he received the reaction he'd wanted this entire time. The way her breath hitched in her throat, eyes darting down to his lips, followed by the hint of regret, almost apologetic for her behavior, gave him a form of satisfaction. It was the initial part of his plan and a job well done. In his opinion.

Before having the chance to pull out a lighter, the sound of a knock caught his attention. Causing his head to turn swiftly towards the door, eyes narrowing at the interruption, ears perking at the sound of a masculine voice that held a concocted accent, and he practically jumped up off the sofa like a guard dog on high alert, dropping the pack of smokes in the process and shrugging off his leather coat while tossing it aside carelessly, landing on the side of the couch. "Hurensohn." Son of a bitch, muttered quietly under his breath with clear distaste while teeth clamped down on the cigarette. Who the hell could that possibly be, did she happen to have a significant other? The mysterious voice too collected for it to be another quick lay. Eyebrows knitting together with confusion. When she turned to look back at him, he shot her a look in hopes to receive some form of answer, patience wearing thin the longer he waited, expression darkening when she didn't speak.

As the two bantered back and forth behind the closed door, he happened to unintentionally zone out the words said between them. They were muffled and the equivalent to background noise, like static on a television. Trying to maintain his composure even though it felt as if there were lava flowing through his veins, lips set in a hard line while irises nearly burned holes through the wood with anticipation, fingers twitching, heartrate increasing as he prepared for the inevitable. The feeling of jealousy bubbling along with the acids in the pit of his stomach. The sound of the lock turning was all that'd been heard. But that opportunity to strike never came.

When the man walked in, he didn't hold any negative connotation behind his mannerisms or words. It was high spirited, and in that moment, it even bewildered Vince. The male even smiled towards him. The protective nature he held diminishing in an instant. What the fuck? He was expecting the man to be furious, to barge over and attempt to curb stomp him til' he turned into minced beef. This further scrambled his brain as he stood there with an unreadable expression, arms dropped down pathetically at his side, cigarette hanging on by a thread and nearly falling from his lips. He swallowed thickly, brows furrowing as words rolled around in his head while irises studied the other from head to toe. Trying to figure him out on his own while the accented man chatted with Clare.

Snapping back to reality upon being acknowledged, meeting Jace's gaze, he could sense a similar vibe while the two studied each other. Posture having now relaxed in his presence. Wanting to pipe up with some fib that happened to come to mind at the mention of his profession but was cut off when Clare tried to answer for him. It was hard to hide what he truly got himself mixed up in, especially from someone who looked like they knew the streets very well, judging by appearance. His knuckles had split for God's sake, no hiding that. Paulie threatened him to not speak about it to just anyone, since feds liked to snake their way in like a bunch of sleuths; using several aliases and a wide range of disguises one could think of. Acting as if they couldn't be paid off. Paul held some other intention for being so discreet, but Vince wasn't sure what. The man didn't appear that way or give off such vibe at all. Matter of fact, he almost looked like he belonged to a different crowd of delinquents due to how he presented himself. The 'president' patch catching eye and it further fueled his curiosity for the stranger.

'Play'? he questioned internally, quickly putting the puzzle pieces together. He should've known the guitar that caught his attention wasn't just some throwaway hobby. Clearing his throat, he nodded in response while pulling the lighter out of the pocket of his wool Italian pants and holding it up to light the cigarette he desperately craved. Now having a much-needed excuse for the nicotine more than ever. After taking a hit, the cig lied lazily between his fingers. "Vincent Kraus, but feel free to call me Vince. Nice to meet ya'." He sniffed, trying to play it cool as the corner of his mouth quirked up into a grin. Disguising his accent in order to throw off the other, all for the sake of his own amusement. A quirk he inherited on his own, among many others. Not wanting to reveal everything about himself to the stranger until well acquainted.

He wasn't one to shake hands or even instigate it for that matter, only complying if the other did first. Especially those of the same sex due to a dominant standpoint, something that was difficult to control since his testosterone levels were through the roof. Thankfully, it didn't make him insufferably toxic in comparison to some and he did his best to present himself that he wasn't a threat. Crew. Yeah, this guy was for sure part of something just as he was. And him being the only guy, minus the crew he speaks of, allowed in her home made him sought answers. "You have any relation to Clare?" The tone held no ill intent behind it, using the chance to take another drag, but the mention of tonight's gig then caused him to turn towards Clare, his attention now directly upon her.

"Never told me you were a rockstar, Clare." He drawled; voice slightly muffled as the cigarette hung between his lips once again. Shooting her a Cheshire grin, he was unable to hold back his next remark. "Does that make me your groupie?" As if he didn't get under her skin enough already. "I'd be delighted to see your show."