I thought I'd do something a little different. I have a few ideas and I really wanted to write them down. Let me know if you guys like it; if you do, I'll write more. However, my first SoA story, 'Daughter of Anarchy,' is my top priority right now. Still, review please! :3 Enjoy!


Chapter one

Secrets are meant to be shared. Usually my mother had always told me everything. But when it came to my father, things got hairy. That was one secret she swore I would never uncover. I remembered sitting at my desk in second grade during the Father's Appreciation day the school had set up, because Father's Day was in June but Mother's Day was able to be celebrated by the kids, alone, bored, and sad. All the other kids had dads to give gifts to. I didn't have jack shit. Mom was never home, never came to any school function, didn't eve unwrap the Mother's Day gifts Davy, my older fraternal twin brother, and I would give her that we made at school. I asked her once who my father was and she transformed into some kind of monster I didn't want to see ever again.

As the school years passed, my depression about not being able to celebrate like my friends did turned into aggression. In my sixth grade year, during "Father's Appreciation Day," I poured a bowl of blood red punch on my mortal enemy Mary Lou Werner. She had taunted and teased Davy and I, saying that we were fatherless children of a whore since she could learn how to read and her father made her read the Bible. Of course I was blamed, called a shiftless hobo in sheep's clothing. Father's Appreciation Day was then stopped from being celebrated in middle school.

When I got into high school, the subject of Davy's and my father became less of a sensitive subject, but Mary Lou still spat poisonous insults at my brother and I when she could. I broke my promise of never asking my mother who my father was, asking her every chance I could. And every time I did, it turned into World War III at the Williams home. Davy told me to stop asking her, that it was destroying the relationship she and I had. I didn't give a shit; he was half of my genes! Half of who I was. I want to know why it was such a big damn secret. And why my own brother didn't care to know.

College was a little bit tougher. Mom had insisted on filling out all of Davy and my papers. Of course it was so she could avoid me asking about my dad. Still, I was dying to know. She hadn't written his name on either of our birth certificates, but there was child support coming in the mail every month. I remember her bitching about it a few times, saying "he's late, like always." So obviously he wasn't dead. Davy and I had gotten full rides to the University of Texas at Austin. Davy had gone through the legal part of the school and I decided to be a graphic designer. Finally tired of begging my mom to tell me who sired Davy and I, I submitted my blood to the Travis County Investigative Labs. They ran my DNA through every database they could. And got a hit.

He lived in Tacoma, Washington. And was a known criminal. His rap sheet wasn't long, but the crimes he committed were semi serious. Armed robbery, grand theft, evading arrest, and to top it off, assaulting a police officer. Then right there, just under his name, was his address. The one I could send something, or show up to if I was so inclined. I chose the second. I sent him a letter

My name is Carolina Susanne Williams. My mother is, unfortunately, Jessica Williams. Do you remember her? I hope so, because you're my father. I know this may be a shock or sound a bit suspicious, but it's true. I ran my DNA through the Travis County data base and your name showed up. My whole life, I've wanted to meet you, talk to you, hug you. I've never known the loving touch of a father. Mom never got remarried. Or married. Actually, I don't know if you were married; she won't tell me anything about how Davy and I came to be. Yeah, I have a twin. He's ten minutes older than me and he holds it over my head as much as he can. From your mug shot, the three of us are obviously related. Enclosed is a picture of Davy and I. It's our senior picture. If this seems legitimate to you, please answer. It would really mean a lot.

PS, please, if you answer, call me Callie. Only my mom calls me Carolina. And I hate it.

Two weeks later I received a reply. I had been so excited; I needed my roommate to read it to me. Thank God Davy and I lived on separate parts of campus. He would be furious to know that I had ran my – our – DNA through the system. He was a potential lawyer and didn't want anything to mess up his already sparkling background. Finding out he came from criminal loins would ruin him.

Dearest Callie,

You really have no idea how long I'vewaited for some kind of communication between us. Thank you for the letter. Yes, I remember your mother. Clearly, by the way you write about her, she hasn'tchanged. Thank you for the picture, also. There's no denying you and your brother are my kids. It's been a very long time since I last saw you two. Your mother had taken you kids, my truck, and all the money in our bank account. Apparently, she went to Texas. I'm truly sorry I wasn'tthere for any part of your life; I wish I could turn back the clock and do the right thing for you and Davy. You two are in college right? Please keep writing to me. Things are a little crazy up here in Tacoma and that last letter somewhat grounded me. I know it doesn'tseem like it, and we barely know each other, but I love you and Davy.

Sincerely, your father

We wrote back and fourth for years. Eventually, I graduated from college with a Bachelor's in graphic design but Davy was still going to school for his hopeful career as a lawyer. I wanted to visit my father and he wanted me to visit as well. But I was a kid fresh out of college, and he said he hadn't a lot of money either. So I stuck out the dreadful heat of Austin, Texas and my terrible job in the heart of the city.

And now, here I stand, in front of my mirror in my bedroom in the cheap apartment I rented. I studied my light olive skin; finally free of the annoying adolescent acne I had been cursed to deal with in high school and college. My chocolaty brown eye sparkled in the faux lighting the lights in the bathroom made. The dark, thick, brown hair that cascaded just past my shoulder blades had actually come from my mother's side. As did my figure – thank goodness.

I hated my life. I hated the people I was forced to talk to on a daily basis. My mother was constantly trying to set me up with men I didn't like. She was pressuring Davy and I for grandchildren. Honestly, she had better luck with Davy. He was still dating the same girl he had been with since our junior year in high school. I, however, had been on a dating binge since I had been 17. A new boyfriend every six months or so, I dated them until the sex got boring. I couldn't help but chuckle as I reflected on my dating history. It made me seem looser than I actually was.

With a soft sigh, I stepped into the hot water that had been shooting out my shower head for the last three minutes. As I rinsed and lathered my hair I felt the familiar bubbling of excitement mixed with nervousness. The job offer in the tiny town of Charming, California had been a godsend. My father had recently moved there and the new job paid great. Actually, better than the job I had now. I was leaving for Charming within the week. Most of my things had already been moved to my dad's place, where I would live until I found a suitable home. All my mom and brother knew was that I had been offered a job in California and I had taken it. Both would kill me if they knew I was living with the father he had tried to hide from my brother and I.


I felt rushed. The house was filthy, which wasn't my fault, and no one was trying to help me clean it before my long lost daughter returned to me. It had been way too long since I had seen her or my son. I wished he could have come along with his sister. Callie had told me over the phone that Davy had given up on having a father years ago. While I didn't blame him for not putting his emotions on the line trying to find someone to replace me, I was a little hurt that he didn't care.

Callie had said that her mother had tried to keep me a total secret. Did that gash seriously think that her children – our children – wouldn't want to at least know who their other half was? My mother was right; I should never have married Jessica Williams. But I wasn't about to tell my mom I knew she was right; I had been in love and no one was going to tell me otherwise. Still, I was thankful I had talked Jess out of a ceremony and just went to the courthouse and signed the papers. What an embarrassment she had been in the last few months of our marriage. It was a subject I often avoided and frequently hit people for bringing up.

In a corner of my kitchen, three members of the Redwood Chapter of the Sons of Anarchy sat eating the food I had bought for Callie. Juice had been the first one to stick his stupid hand in the fridge and take out the red apples I had bought. Callie had told me red were her favorite and the green ones were too sour. She had gotten sores before from the tart Granny Smiths. Chibs had followed the Puerto Rican by taking a banana. Tig had taken a pudding cup from the six I had bought for myself. I was slightly perturbed that the three of them sat around while I ran back and forth, throwing this away, running that upstairs, and trying to find my cut.

"Hey, relax dude," Juice stood from the table and stopped my pacing. "I'm sure Callie's not going to mind a little disorganization. After all, you did get her room put together. She'll probably really appreciate that."

I stared at him, mulling over what he had said. I hated admitting it, but it was true. Every damn word that retard had just spit out was right. I breathed in deeply and nodded, following him back to the kitchen table. Tig offered me one of my own beers as I as at the dinette. The yeasty liquid, surprisingly, quenched my thirst. I soon found myself with an empty Corona bottle in front of me. Tig, being the one who sat closest to the fridge, leaned backwards after opening the door, offered me another. Politely, I refused. I didn't want to be piss drunk when my kid showed up.

It was 4:36 pm when Juice and Chibs began to play Rock, Paper, Scissors. Tig and I lounged on my couch, watching a rerun of some lame ass show that was on VH1. My heart skipped a beat when the sound of asphalt under tires entered my ears and the smooth sound of a BMW X3 engine being shut off told me that she was here. I practically fell over Tig as I scrambled to get to the door.

For at least two minutes, I stood there, probably looking like an idiot to the other guys. I didn't care; I was going through last minute worries. Growling a little and shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I swung the door open. There she stood, on my front porch, fist poised to knock on the door that was now not there. Slowly, she put her hand down and smiled. I could hear the other three behind me, trying to get a peek.

"Hey, dad."


So, what do you guys think? I really like it. And I hope you guys do too. Let me know :) I don't own anything SoA related. Williams family, however, I do.