Man, when did my life get so crazy. I remember when things were simpler, where I didn’t need to think who it was I was pointing my gun at. Like high school, ah, now there was a fun time. If there was someone who wronged me I’d kick the shit out of them, if there was someone who trashed one of my pals (what few I had back then) I beat the crap out of them, and hell, even if I just didn’t like them I’d leave them a broken mess. But all good things must come to an end. Eventually I got caught, and the judge being the ass that he was gave me two options, I go to juvy till I turn 18 then straight to prison, or I attempt to turn my life around by joining the military. Honestly, now I’m beginning to think juvy wouldn’t have been so bad, beside I eventually made it to the prison anyways. Regardless, I made my choice I spent the next year and a half running drills and learning to fire a gun. Poor choice on there part, or at least on the part of the drill instructor who kept derailing me and pushing me in the dirt when I wasn’t going fast enough for him. Hehe, I still have the scar on my knuckles from when I punched him right in the mouth. And so my short service in the military did end and my next few years in the state penitentiary began. There ended up making nice with some of the inmates who told me about that bike gang they were apart of. After a few years I was out of there and searched out there gang. Then after a few words about there buds still in the pen and a few beers I had found my new home. And so it was for a good few years, the open road, the fights, and the beer, ah, such good times. And then I met her. She only said three words to me, “The name’s Roxy.” But that was all it took for me to see where this new road would take me.