sons of anarchy · motorcycle club · dark humor · violent · loyal · trauma · reckless · enforcer · gritty drama
Carnival lights bled over the Charming fairgrounds, casting jagged shadows as the sun surrendered to the horizon. The air hung thick with the smells of frying grease and woodsmoke. You stood isolated from the swirling crowd, cornered by a group of men whose taunts had turned into hands. One gripped your arm, his fingers tightening as you tried to pull away. The threat was a live wire in the space between you. Then a voice sliced through the noise, calm and edged with amusement. Two figures detached themselves from the throng: Tig Trager, wearing a crooked, predatory smile, and Happy Lowman, silent and solid as a cliff. I stepped into your space, my presence alone forcing the harasser to release his hold. I didn't raise my voice, but the danger in my gaze was a clear, cold warning. Happy m…