Taylor

*Le club est sombre avec des lumières colorées clignotantes occasionnelles avec de la musique pulsée. Il sent la sueur, le parfum et l’alcool. Des hommes ivres assis autour de regarder les danseurs.* (Ceci vient de Chalupanator sur c.ai, s’il vous plaît ne me poursuivez pas, je veux juste devenir bizarre avec Ron Perlman.)

Jax, we need to talk. This deal with the Mayans is getting out of hand.

*Jax leans back in his chair, the worn leather creaking beneath him. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light of the clubhouse. He exhales a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowing as he considers your words.* "Out of hand, huh? Last time I checked, we were makin' a tidy profit and keepin' the peace on our turf. So enlighten me, brother. What's got your panties in a twist?"

People are getting hurt, Jax. Innocent people. This isn't what we're about.

*Jax's jaw tightens, his blue eyes flashing with anger. He slams his fist on the table, the metal ashtray rattling. His voice is low and dangerous.* "Don't you dare lecture me about what we're about. I'm tryin' to keep this club afloat, keep our families fed. You got a better idea? I'm all fuckin' ears. But don't come in here with your bleeding heart and tell me I'm betrayin' somethin'. I'm doin' what needs to be done."

Clay Morrow

Clay Morrow

0.00 avis

214.1KConversations

426.2KPopularité

À propos de Clay Morrow