Charming's Charmless

Sitting in a high end shop lined wall to wall with designer white dresses wasn't something Helen thought she would have been doing early on a Saturday morning, but there she was with Gemma and Tara either side of her.
“These are all ugly as hell.” She swept her dark glasses to the top of her freshly straightened hair and made a face at the dresses the assistant was bringing over.
Tara's brow was raised and Gemma's mouth hung open as the dresses were hung one by one on a rack before them.
The assistant turned and looked down at the women with a smile. “Shall we get started?”
“Do you have anything less poofy and not as long?” Helen leaned forward clasping her hands over her knees.
“I...I suppose we do have something.” The young woman turned and called over another woman.
“Do we really need another prude bitch?” Gemma looked at Helen.
“Apparently so.”
“Well at least Juice is paying for this one.” Threading an arm through her sister's Tara watched as the second woman strutted over in break neck heels.
In her late fifties the woman's hair was pulled back into a tight enough bun that the skin around her eyes was tight lifting the edges of her eyes.
“This is our manager Morgan.”
The trio nodded and smiled as politely as they could.
“You're interested in something else?” Morgan's red lips mouthed the words with perfect pronunciation.
“I am.” Helen bit her lower lip and dropped her head back. This was going to take some degree of explanation to get across what she was after when she decided that tactfulness wasn't going to cut it. “Listen, Morgan these dresses are nice but not me.”
Morgan raised a fawn brown eyebrow. “I'm listening.”
“Okay.” Rolling her eyes to Gemma Helen stood sticking her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans. “I work for a porn company and am getting' hitched to a biker so these dresses you are showing me aren't cutting it. We have been looking for a week now and with the wedding next month I need something now. Can you do this? If not I am going to walk straight back out that door.”
Taken back by the promptness of the young woman before her Morgan nodded curtly. “We are a high end designer wedding gown specialist. Young lady we cater to elegance and pride and what you're asking is not what we supply.”
Helen rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. “I am done. Screw this I am going to borrow that one Luanne used for Four Dykes and a Fuckfest. Bet it's still in that place somewhere.”
“Four Dykes and a Fuckfest?” Suddenly Morgan took a step forward. “You work for KerraKerra?”
Helen's brows raised at the manager's suddenly interested tone. “Yes.”
Another step closer and she leaned in to whisper in Helen's ear. “That is my favourite KerraKerra production. Starr was just so...erotic!”
With slightly ajar lips Helen drew back and quickly closed them in thought. “You know if you could suddenly find a dress to suit me I might be able to arrange a private party with you and Starr.”
“Oh don't tug my chain.” Morgan bit her lower lip.
“I wouldn't be, but I bet a dress that Starr would love to tug yours.”
“Well.” Morgan clapped her hands together with a suddenly decided warmer tone. “I do think I have something in the back. Elisha could you pull out code 4479Z in a size...” She checked Helen over and turned back to the assistant. “In a size 8.”
Her eyes went wide. “But Morgan we haven't even loaded that dress into our system.”
“Just get it!” Morgan said through gritted teeth turning back to Helen with a smile. “I think you will like this one. It is a little different to what we usually stock but this season the designer was trying for something less...perfect.”
Nodding Helen took her seat along side Tara and Gemma waiting for Elisha to come back with the named dress.
“Well she changed her tune real quick. What did you say?” Gemma leaned in asking Helen.
She shook her head. “Client confidentiality is always number one on KerraKerra's list.” She winked and both the women made eyes that said 'say nothing more.'
The tapping of Elesha's kitten heels over the hardwood boutique floor signalled she had come back with the dress. Hanging it on the rack she proceeded to remove the first dresses and let Morgan take over as she placed the discarded choice back into their respected places.
With a smile Morgan unzipped the black dress bag containing the gown and slowly slipped it out. “Right now this is the only dress we have but as I said I think you may like it.”
“Oh wow.” Tara gasped pressing her fingers to her lips.
Gemma leaned forward. “Well ain't that something.”
Morgan looked over at Helen's unreadable face. “Well what do you think?”
Helen bit her bottom lip as her eyes roamed over the knee length gown. It's white tulle layer roughly cut and slashed with black tulle. Its a-line shape accentuated by a black silk ribbon running around where the skirt met the bodice and topped off with a medium style bow on the back.
“It's just what I was looking for. Morgan you have yourself a deal.”

Burying her face into Juice's chest as they lay over the couch watching a documentary on something neither of them were really grasping Helen began to trace circles over his shirt.
“I think we should get a new house.” Juice suddenly said.
Her brow raised. “Why?”
“Don't know.” Juice shrugged as Helen moved to face him.
“You don't know?”
“Nope.” He grinned and shook his head.
Helen bit her lower lip lingering her gaze on that grin for just a second too long. “Well I like it here, in this house. It's our home.”
Juice tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and ran a thumb down her cheek. “I know, I just think it's time to move.”
“You're really strange you know that?”
“I know.” Juice leaned forward and tapped his nose against hers.
Harriet began to growl from her spot curled up in front of the couch. They both looked down at her as her great head rose and a thundering bark echoed from her muzzle.
“Someone's out there.” Juice carefully slipped from under Helen and quickly retrieved his gun from the bedside table.
Helen watched the front door as Harriet sat up in front of her owner and continued to growl. Someone was definitely out there making their presence known with a rattle of the front door.
Juice has his gun aimed and a free hand over the knob ready to open it when suddenly a cloud of gun fire began to tear through the little house.
Screaming Helen dived forcing Harriet to the ground with her, left over maternal instincts telling her to make sure the hulking hound didn't get caught in the shower of bullets.
Juice hit the ground as one of the roaming bullets grazed his arm and a hiss escaped his throat.
“What the fuck is going on?” Helen shouted
“Irish!” Was all Juice called back as the sounds of kicking echoed through the front door until it was finally laying upon the floor.
“Where the hell is it?!” Jimmy O was the first through the door bellowing at the top of his across the pond lungs.
Harriet began to bark as Jimmy stomped towards Juice, a henchman just outside the door.
“Where's what?” Juice played dumb.
Closing her eyes and silently sighing Helen wished Juice hadn't just said that.
“You know what. Don't play stupid with me your Puerto-fuck!” Swiftly Jimmy kicked Juice across the face. “Tell me or I'll force you to watch as I torture and kill your little swine slut.” His eyes landed on Helen as she clutched at Harriet's fur. A silent nod passed from Jimmy to the man outside, prompting him to barge his way in.
Helen cringed back as his heavy foot falls stomped in her direction but as panic began to burst through the lid Helen had tried to put on it Harriet lunged forward latching onto the brute's arm. Her heavy set jaw sent her teeth crunching through bone and the man locked in her bite let out a shrill scream that had Jimmy O turning with him gun aimed on the great canine.
“No!” Helen cried out grabbing hold of Harriet just as the loud burst of a bullet exiting it's barrel sounded.
It ricocheted through the house and soon was met by a deafening silence. Helen had her eyes squeezed shut so hard that swirls of colour began to dance before her eyelids. “Am I dead?” she asked not daring to open her eyes.
“No baby.” Juice heaved a sigh as he moved towards Jimmy O's body slumped against the wall. Pressing his fingers against the Irishman's neck he felt a pulse. “Not dead.”
Helen dared to open her eyes. “I think this one is.”
Juice looked over as Harriet drew her now blood slick head from the goon that had threatened Helen and casually tossed her body over the woman.
“I think you're right. I'll call Clay.”
“You're arm...” Helen pointed out as Juice took out the mobile from his sweat pants.
“It's just a scratch.”

“Better than new.” Tara snipped the end of the tread that sutured Juice's skin back together as Clay, Jax and Tig looked over the muscle for hires body.
Jimmy had been taken care of beforehand and now lay in some dumpster in the back of an alleyway far from the scene.
“So what do we do with this jerkoff?” Jax tucked his hands in the back of his pockets looking to Tig and Clay.
“Hey Helen?” Tig leaned back catching her attention as she scrubbed the last of the blood from Harriet's mouth.
“Hrm?”
“Do you happen to have an axe or saw?”
She nodded. “Shed out back. It's unlocked. Just do it in the bathroom, I have enough of that carpet to clean up.”
“Of course.” Tig gave her a smile before heading for the back door.
To think Helen would have gone green at the thought of what Tig was about to do with that saw and body, but now? Now she was helping.
“Tara can you grab the garbage bags from the bottom draw?” She pointed towards the draw under the sink. “Tig's gonna need them.”
“Sure.” Her sister moved towards the draw.
Clay turned his attention to Juice who sat still on a kitchen chair with contemplation over his face. “Juice listen we never meant for this to get back to your home.”
“You said wait for the Irish to come to us.”
“I know what I said but this isn't what I had anticipated.”
Juice's head dropped. “When you're done with the body just leave.”
Nodding Clay knew it would have been of no good to argue or reason with the man who's house had just been shot up and fiancee' threatened.
Tig strode in saw in hand and with a chipper nature about him began to drag the corpse through to the bathroom. “Fat fuck going to do my back in.”
Placing a soft hand over her sister's arm Tara leaned forward. “You guys can't stay here.”
“Tara's right. Why don't you grab some clothes, bundle up Harriet and kip at the Clubhouse until we get this place fixed up?” Jax offered without the prospect of another idea coming to mind.
Sighing Helen looked over at Juice.
“We don't have a choice babe.”
“I know.” She nodded. “I'll pack some stuff and you grab whatever you need to. Jax can you put Harriet's harness on?”
Jax looked over to the purple canine harness that hung over the corner of the lounge and back to the great best that sat staring at him.
“Uhh...sure.”
“Thanks and careful when she licks she drools...a lot.”

Stubborn and headstrong Juice had refused to let Helen drive her car to the clubhouse and forced himself in the driver's side with her keys clutched in his hand.
“I wish you would let me drive your arm must be killing you.”
Juice rolled his eyes. “It's fine.”
“Do you think that'll be the end of all this shit with the Irish?” She asked turning her head against the backrest of the passenger side.
He shrugged. “Maybe. With Jimmy out of action they won't do anything for a while.”
She turned her head back to the windscreen and watched as the garage came into view. Clay had called Chibs and asked that he be there at the club for the night in case anything else happened.
Juice turned the key and killed the car's engine. A weighted sigh forced it's way through his nostrils.
“We can't do this.”
“Can't do what?” Helen's voice was wary as she asked.
Without glancing up Juice shook his head, after everything Helen had gone through with him this had been the last straw. This was a woman he loved more than words could begin to express and here he was selfishly putting her in harm's way time and time again.
“Us. We can't keep doing this. You could have been killed tonight. For Christ sake Jimmy fucking kidnapped you and had you beaten because of that stupid deal.”
Helen watched as his head dropped against the steering wheel.
“You dirty fuck!”
Juice's mouth gaped open, that wasn't the reaction he thought she would give him.
“You're right Juan, you put me through complete hell right to the point where I think I can't take any more but never once have I said fuck you I am leaving. So why do you think you can say it to me?”
Helen was now turned on her side and inches from his face.
“I...” He didn't have a reply for her.
“Exactly. You don't get to. Now man up and get on with it.”
Juice watched as Helen slammed the car door shut behind her and stormed past Chibs into the clubhouse. Chibs looked back with raised brows at the fuming madame.
“She doesn't look happy.” He greeted Juice who had two bags in his left hand and the lead to Harriet in the right.
“No. She doesn't.” Juice handed the lead to Chibs and walked inside.
“Did we fuck up again?” Chibs's tone was cheerful as the thought of the pup screwing up for the umpteenth time.
“Yup.”
“What did you do now?”
“Try to break up with her.”
“You arsehole.” Chibs followed Juice inside with dog in hand.
“Yup.”