It had been eight years since Corey Abernathy stepped foot back onto Charming territory.
Much to her amusement and dissatisfaction, the town had hardly changed since her departure.
She had been driving all day; if it wasn't for the sun that was steadily settling below the horizon, she wouldn't have realized how many hours she had spent on the road. Her body was aching from being stationary for such a long period of time but she was annoyingly persistent on driving until she made it into town borders.
The female slid her sunglasses toward the top of her head, pulling the stray dark strands away from her face. She wasn't even within Charming city limits for longer than three minutes when the distinct sound of a motorcycle engine revved somewhere a few streets over.
Her gaze flickered down to her gas gauge. A small groan escaped her upon realizing the meter of her Ford Fusion was riding on empty. She pulled into the gas station that was only a block down the road, pleasantly charmed when she didn't have to wait in a line.
The moment Corabelle slid out of her car, both her legs and her back screamed in protest. "Jesus Chris," she murmured under her breath, rolling her shoulders in attempt to ease the tension that resided there. Hastily, she pulled the gas pump and pushed the nozzle into the tank. As much as she hated to admit it, she was getting low on cash and was only able to fill her tank up a quarter of the way, if lucky. She had plenty of cash stored away in her savings account but she was hoping to prolong touching it as long as she could. She didn't need anyone knowing her whereabouts.
While her gas was filling, the raven haired female traveled into the small convenient store attached to the station. The attendant perked his head up at her arrival, eyes clearly lingering on her retreating form. Corabelle was by no means an unattractive female – she was tall and leggy, but still had curves in places that were considered desirable. She was quick to ignore the attention and instead focused her energy on picking up a bottle of tea from one of the back coolers and a granola bar from one of the small isles. She had only been traveling for a day or so, but felt as though she hadn't eaten in weeks. The moment she wandered back toward the front desk and set her items on the counter, her gaze finally flickered up to meet the man's.
"Holy shit… Corey?" His voice was laced with a grin. Corabelle's eyebrows furrowed together, trying to place his face with where she had seen him before. "Jesse… Jesse Mckibbon" he finally clarified for her, seemingly wounded that she hadn't recognized him immediately.
"Jesse… right" Corey nodded toward him, feigning a small, friendly smile in return. Jess Mckibbon was a looker in his prime. Ten years ago, when she had only been seventeen, Corey and Jesse had hooked up on occasion. It was always expected that he'd make something out of his life, but by the look of him he had been a gas station attendant for far longer than he would've liked. Her eyes tried not to linger too long on the beer belly and unkempt five o'clock shadow he was sporting. Jesse didn't seem to notice her stare and instead leaned closer in her direction, stationing his weight on his elbows.
"You look real good, you know that?"
Corey's eyes widened and she nodded slowly, clearly uncomfortable.
"Say - what're you doing back home? Didn't you leave for some big city or some shit?"
"Something like that, but I guess I couldn't stay away. Charming has that lure."
"Gotta say, I like the looks of you around here again" Jesse continued, oblivious to the ways Corey was more than unenthused with the conversation. He slid her tea and granola across the counter toward her. "Go ahead, they're on me. Your gas too" he offered with a smirk. In no position to pass up free anything, Corey simply tossed him what she hoped was a flirty smile in return, before grabbing her things and dashing back toward her vehicle.
She hit the road once more, driving closer into the depths of town before realizing she had no real destination in mind. Her cell phone, which had been long abandoned in the bottom of her purse, was her only savior and she realized this quickly. Before the female could comprehend it, she was swerving through back roads.
The moment she pulled in front of a hauntingly familiar one story house she allowed her car to idle. Her fingers were numb as she scrolled through her contacts. Upon realizing she had deleted all of her Charming contacts after leaving town, she cursed under her breath. Her head lifted toward the house, bangs tumbling into her eyes.
If it had been years earlier, or even decades earlier, Corey knew that Jackson would have been the first person she would go to upon her arrival. But now, eight years later, after both of them burned the remainder of their bridges, this wasn't an option anymore.
She realized then that she only had two options: either she find the balls to go up and knock on the door, or she bow out and forget ever stopping by in the first place. As tempting as the latter was, the brunette found herself throwing her car in park and reaching for her handle before she could comprehend it.
Corey was always steadfast in her actions. This was both a blessing and a curse on her end. She knew what needed to be done and did whatever she could in her power to make that happen. She was the type of girl to be either one hundred percent in, or a hundred percent out – there was no happy medium.
"Fuck," the curse left her lips before she could filter it.
With her car, which was currently housing every possession she could bring with her, left near the sidewalk, she knew she couldn't turn back now. Where would she go, anyway? Maybe live in some shady motel up in Oregon for a few weeks before getting a fake ID and starting a new life somewhere?
She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about that option. But realistically, she was in her late twenties. She wasn't an eighteen year old anymore, who could throw caution to the wind whenever she felt like it.
Corabelle took the final few steps that closed the distance between her and the front porch. Hesitantly at first, and then without thought, she pounded on the door. There was no movement inside the old house even as she listened closely. If she hadn't seen his bike parked around the side of the yard she would have considered continuing on her merry way.
"Open the goddamn door, Filip" she murmured, mostly to herself than anything. He wouldn't have heard her over her continuous strikes anyway. Her knuckles were burning relentlessly as she continued to assault the old mahogany.
Corey stood there and glared at the door, her breathing labored. The feeling of being unwelcome back in charming began to loom over her. Hell, if she wasn't welcome back home, where was she welcome?
She took a moment to run her fingers through her tangled locks and think about what he next move would be. Chibs was the only person she felt safe going to for help. She knew the others would be tentative to let her back in again after her disappearance.
With an irritated bite of her lower lip, she turned and stormed down the porch.
As if waiting for her to move, the door behind her opened swiftly. She turned in the darkness and met a pair of wise, dark eyes. He was turned at an angle and reaching behind his back. It didn't take her long to realize that he was reaching for the gun he kept on the holster under his kutte.
"Filip," she acknowledged out loud, his name suddenly sounding very foreign.
He narrowed his eyes in the young girl's direction, trying to find recognition. She switched her weight between her feet.
"Cora," he responded. Her name was equally foreign in his thick accent. For a moment he just stared at her. The heavy gaze was teetering on uncomfortable when he finally reached forward to push open the screen door.
It was the beginning of summer and heat had surrounded the small, California town like a tent. The air, even given the late hour, was dense with humidity. In the distance the faint sound of laughter and sprinkles could be heard. It was all very much contrasting against their current situation.
Finally, Chibs smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. No matter the distance, she could still make out the puckering of his scars.
"What are you doing here?" he questioned. There was a gruffness to his voice that deceived his smile. She took it with a grain of salt though, choosing to ignore it rather than face the possible meaning behind his tone.
"What, a girl can't come pay her uncle a visit without there behind some hidden connotation?" she quipped back with a small smirk. He laughed shortly and shook his head.
It became obvious then that no, she couldn't.
"I'm coming home, Filip" she answered after an immeasurable amount of silence past between them. Crickets chirped somewhere in the distance. The Irish man gazed at the young female for a while then, contemplating if she was telling the truth. "I'm coming home" Corey repeated when he didn't reply.
Finally, he began to nod his head slowly. "Okay" he accepted, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Does the club know you're here?"
Corabelle opened her mouth to respond but ended up snapping it shut.
"You think they won't approve" he concluded, eyebrows rising for clarification. It was Corey's turn to nod.
"I was planning on stopping by Teller-Morrow tomorrow. I figure nobody is going to be quick at throwing me a welcome back party."
"Can you blame them?" the gruffness returned.
Corey left in a haste eight years ago. She was nineteen and thought the entire town she grew up in was poison. After her parent's deaths, she thought that her only tangible ties to the town had turned to dust. Little did she know, she was leaving behind the only form of family she'd have. When she left, she took off in the middle of the night with nothing but the insurance money she had received from her father's death. Corey didn't tell anyone where she was until a few weeks after her disappearance. She had called Aunt Gemma and told her she was safe, and needed an out. Aside from sending holiday cards and getting sparse calls on her birthday, she hadn't had any real connection with any of the club since.
Chibs eyes softened. He knew what she had been thinking about. He had known Corabelle since her birth twenty-seven years previous. He was best mates with her late father and had been in the hospital, along with the other original nine that day. He knew he well enough to know she was torturing herself about it all.
"You need a place to stay, yeah?" Chibs uncrossed his arms and took a few steps toward her, as if throwing up a white flag. The corners of her lips tugged up into a half-smile in response.
"My car hasn't made for the most comfortable bed lately."
"Well. Let's go then." He nodded back toward back to the house and her smile widened involuntarily. Relief began washing over her. She knew she was going to be grilled but she hoped that Chibs had enough mercy to let that wait until later.
Her keys were still in her hand and she turned enough to lock the doors behind her. Nobody was ignorant enough to break into a car that was parked in the drive of a patched-in SAMCRO member, so she didn't bother taking anything with her. At that moment, that pent up fatigue worked its way through her body. All she needed was a couch and she was set until she could figure all the rest of her shit out.
She knew very well that the following day would be rough.
She had no idea how everybody else was going to take her sudden reappearance, but she hoped that it would be better than they took her departure.