The world was rushing, the movement of the bus lulling me to sleep once again as I stared out at the passing scenery, blurred and distorted, much like my life had been since I had started my way back to Charming.
It had been snowing when I had fallen asleep earlier that morning. Soft, fluffy snowflakes swirling around the long and nearly vacant road that stretched out before the lumbering bus before smashing into the windshield, becoming nothing more than splashes of water wiped away by the next cycle of the wipers.
But now, as my eyes struggled to remain open and my mind forced itself awake, I could see the heat waves rising up off the scorching asphalt.
The seemingly endless motel rooms and dinners of fast food. Baths in dirty tubs and dirty pillows to lay my head down on. All to go back to a place I didn't want. To a family I didn't need.
To something that would, without a shred of doubt, turn into something bad.
I had left Charming on the eve of my sixteenth birthday, slipping out of my window and into the night as my father lay, drunk, on the living room couch, a croweater passed out between his legs.
My nose crinkled at the memory as I adjusted myself, my mind perking up from the movement, only to dull once again as I focused my attention out the window, pulling my hoodie tighter around me.
I had bought a one way ticket to Virginia, as far as I could possibly get from Charming, with the little money I had managed to sneak from my father's clothes when he had finally peeled the sweaty pieces of cloth from his body long enough for me to wash.
I had no family in Virginia. I knew not a soul when, three days later, I stepped off that bus, tired and cramping from my neck to my toes. For awhile I had lived on the streets. Spending my nights stashed under bridges and my days searching for work.
I had to have paved a damn hole in the unforgiving landscape until I finally found my first shitty ass job at a storehouse. It was hard work and made me sore, but it got me an apartment and food every night, so I couldn't very well complain.
I was happy.
I had an apartment, a good job…a guy who loved me….hell, we even had a damn dog together.
But then, a week or so ago, I got a call from the last person in the fucking world I wanted to hear from.
Xxxxxxx
"Harley." Said the voice that had haunted my dreams for damn near three years. "Your pop…he's in the hospital….they say he ain't gonna make it."
It was like I had been doused with freezing water, my head turning to glance over at my boyfriend, oblivious, as he sat, sprawled out on our couch watching one of his idiotic crime shows.
"How did you get this number?" I had finally managed, my voice soft. "How the hell did you find me, Clay?"
"You know we have charters all over, doll." He replied simply, before dropping off, obviously waiting for me to speak.
But I refused.
After a moment of silence and the irritating crackling of the bad connection, he sighed.
"He wants his daughter home." Clay continued, his words slow and deliberate. "He wants to make amends. "
I snorted out a laugh, a bitter and humorless sound that made Dallas peek over the back of the couch, his dark eyebrows furrowed.
"Make amends for what?!" I spat in a hushed voice, turning my back to Dallas's questioning gaze. "For being a shitty father? For getting Kole killed? For driving my mother to kill herself?!"
"Rip did what he had to! He is a Brother, Harley! Brothers make hard, potentially life shattering sacrifices every goddamn day!" He raged into the phone, snarling lightly before taking a deep breath, his tone calmer when he continued. "Look….I'm not asking you to come back to Charming for good or be apart of the club in anyway. I'm just asking you to fulfill a dying man's dying request. And, even as hard headed and bitter as you've always been, even you should see that no matter how shitty you think the person is, they should always get a chance to explain themselves. "
Silence.
'Dammit!'
"Alright…..Fine!" I hissed, holding my phone tighter then needed, hearing the cheap plastic crack. "I will stay long enough for him to say what he wants, but after….I"m GONE, Clay. You forget this number, you forget where I live, you forget I even fucking existed. "
With that I had snapped my phone shut, sighing an exhausted sigh before dropping my forehead against the cool wall with a hollow 'thud'.
God fucking damn it.
Xxxxxxx
I knew it the minute we entered Charming.
It was a town like no other.
A shit hole stuck in the decades. Full of off brand mom and pop stores and gas stations straight out of 80's.
Welcome to Charming! A sign read as we pulled into the tiny, outdated bus station. Where everybody is Family!
Xxxxxx
My eyes stayed glued forward as I made my way through the double doors that opened into the hospital surprisingly busy lobby, their glass catching the light as I pulled them open, the toe of my boot thudding against the threshold.
I could feel their eyes, following me closely, as I walked across the newly redecorated lobby towards the long, white hall that stretched almost the entire length of the small building, ignoring the woman at the admissions desk who stood as I passed.
I could hear their voices.
Their poor attempts at whispers as I walked.
"Isn't that Rip Flanery's kid?" One woman whispered, leaning closer to the man at her side, head turned 'inconspicuously' as her eyes followed me.
"I thought she ran away years ago..." another said, before pretending to look down at whatever papers were in her hands as my attention drifted over her.
Getting my teeth I continued on, turning down one of the adjourning halls into the critical wing. The whole place stinking of death and bleach.
As sick as it was, all the times my father and I had been in there, I still knew my goddamn way around the shit hole.
Xxxxxx
Their vests where the first things I noticed as I neared the room. The reapers, colored bright white, glaring hatefully at me as I approached. My hands, hanging limply at my sides, my steps slowly to a crawl as I watched the huddled mass separate, turning to look at the echoing 'clomps' my boots caused.
Memories came rushing back.
Their faces, all so familiar and yet so strange, taking me back to my childhood.
'Run'
Clay was the first to speak, stepping forward, arms open wide and a sad smile splitting his lips.
"Harley." He greeted warmly, his voice as loud and imposing as I had remembered, his hugs just as tight as I stepped into his arms to wrap mine loosely around his waist. "Didn't know if you were gonna show." His hand, wrapped around my skull, squeezed and ruffled my hair. "Good to see ya, kid."
"Yeah, well…" I replied as I pulled away to step take a step back, rubbing a hand quickly across my forehead. "I did. Dad's finally dying, huh?"
"Shouldn't be so harsh, Harley." Clay replied, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder. "What happened to all the forgiving catholic bullshit yer mother drilled into you?"
I rolled my eyes and turned my head away preparing to enter my dads room when movement caught my attention, a shadow seen from corner of my eye and drawing my gaze over to where a man was stepping around the corner and into view.
A shadow from my goddamn past.
His eyes, as blue as any sea, still made my skin prickle as they settled on me, the greasy blonde hair tucked behind his ears longer than I remembered it, falling into his face as he came to a stop. The smile, once set firmly on his face, slowly started to drop as he took me in, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
Jackson Motherfucking Teller.
My heart still fucking fluttered.
Damn traitor.
The humorless snort that passed my lips and occupied the sudden thick silence that had settled around the group took me by surprise as I turned away from Jax and back to Clay, shrugging his hand off my shoulder.
"Lets go do some god damn forgiving." I mumbled, my tone bitter as I angled myself towards the door at my left. "Do some Hail Mary's or some shit."
Without another word I entered, shutting the door firmly behind me. As I turned I found myself greeted with a sight I had never witnessed before.
Don't get me wrong, my father had been in the hospital many times before, every other week at times, always 'on deaths door' only to pull through days later and go right back to his fucked up life style instead of coming home to me and mom.
But this…..this was different.
There IVs in each arm, one clear, the other deep red, their incessant beeping growing louder as I inched my way closer, stopping at his bedside.
"The mask," Clay suddenly spoke, sounding uncomfortable with the silence. "Is to help him breath. The IV in his left arm is pumping Antibiotics and the one in his right is filtering his kidneys. Had to have part of his liver removed…..real tough break.
He looked like shit. His hair, dyed shit brown, disheveled and greasy, was thinner than I remembered, his leathery face had more wrinkles. Silently I set my hands on the coarse white sheets beside him, my eyes skimming over him with a curiosity that hadn't been there before.
He had gotten fatter, his beer gut bigger than ever I noted. And he stunk.
Stunk bad.
"Ugh!" I groaned as I took a step back, covering my nose with the sleeve shirts f my hoodie, brow furrowing.
"He's pretty bad, Har." Clay said, coming to my side. "Docs gave him a week. Tops."
Silence.
"He stinks…."I said mechanically, my eyes still on my dad. "Don't they ever bath him?"
"They tried….for a few days." Clay sighed. "But after awhile the nurses got fed up with his wondering hands and just stopped trying."
"Jesus Christ, man." I said, hands raising to cover my face. "Of course, why won't he be a perv on his fucking death bed. Stupid of me to think different. "
"They just sedated him a couple hours before you arrived so he'll be out for the rest of the day, maybe most of the next too…."
I knew what was coming.
The sneaky bastard.
"You got anywhere to stay tonight?"
After a moment of silence and internal arguing, my eyes watching the covers draped over my father rise and fall, I shook my head.
"Not unless you count another motel room, dude." My voice was soft as I spoke, my mind wondering, thinking I'd have to drive about five miles out of Charming for any kind of decent room for the night. "Don't even think I have enough money for that though."
"You know the dorms are open to any child of a Brother, Harley."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know…."
To be hones, the more I thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. A bed with clean sheets did sound fucking tempting.
Tempting enough for me to even consider staying at the loud and beer soaked club. There was only one thing that could change my mind, and that thing was standing right outside the door.
"No….Probably wouldn't be smart-"
"Truth is I'd feel better if you were with us, hun. Under our roof." Clay's voice interrupted. "Still haven't caught the guys who did this to your old man. You'd be safe."
"But….Jax, Clay. I can't get….I just can't." I replied, my eyes dropping to my hands. "I got a life back in Virginia. An apartment. A job….."
"Jax ain't gonna do anything, Har." Clay said, his voice trying to be soothing. "You made your feelings very clear to him when you just up and disappeared. Besides, boys got a fiancée now.
"Tara…." I said, already knowing Clay's answer. She's always had a thing for him.
"Yeah….Gemma's not a fan."
Jax has a fiancée...
For some reason those words struck a cord inside me they shouldn't have, pulling at the already frayed strings of my heart.
'Of course he does, you stupid bitch. What the hell did you expect.'
"So…what do ya say?" Clay continued. "I'll have Gemma bring some of the dinner she made over for you, warm and all."
Silence.
"Yeah, Clay." I finally replied, nodding my head. "I'll stay at the club."