*Insert troll face here.*

No, no, no! I'm so sorry! I'm 100% joking and 1,000,000% sorry! *Ducks to dodge the flying tomatoes you throw at my head* FORGIVE ME! This is way late, I know. But, can I just say that this chapter is well worth the wait!? Trust me you guys, you're gonna love it! I made it twice as long as it originally was, so technically this should be split up and make two chapters. Instead, I present thee: ONE MEGA CHAPTER...

"What about me and all my friends?

Are we all sinners if we sin?"

- Jesus, Jesus by Noah Gundersen

I stepped back and pressed my shaking hand to my forehead. "I knew it…" I breathed, my line of sight narrowing to what was directly in front of me. I felt like something was lodged in my throat, obstructing my airway, like I couldn't get air fast enough. The pace of the music in the bar was quick enough to battle with my pulse. I gripped the back of a chair and leaned against it, trying to steady my breath.

A hand touched my shoulder. "Don't fucking touch me, Chibs!" I snapped, whirling around to tear into him for lying to me this whole time. I came up short when I saw it was Jackson standing worriedly behind me, and Chibs loomed back with Tig and Clay. Chibs had an unreadable expression on his face and my eyes trailed down to the ground.

"Please," Clay said lowly, dangerously, his eyes trained on Juice. "Don't tell me this is what it looks like…"

A small voice in the back of my mind made a smart remark about the fact that he is observant enough recognize something in front of his face! How nice.

"She," Juice started, looking between me and Clay desperately. "I didn't say shit, Clay! She just – she figured it out!"

I opened my mouth to refute that, but nothing came to mind. I shifted uncomfortably when Clay's cold eyes hit my face. "So, what? You heard rumors?" He moved closer to me, scrutinizing my every move. "Ya heard some shit around town, and you thought maybe you'd try to fuck your way in?"

I flinched. My jaw dropped. I saw Chibs stiffen and step forward, but before he could say anything, the words tumbled from my mouth. "Me!? Are you fucking joking? I don't want in!" I turned to look at each man standing around, from Chibs's regretful scowl to Jackson's mouth that twisted like he had a bad taste. Tig even seemed to grimace at Clay's accusation. "I don't want any part of – of whatever you've got going here! Not everyone is a power hungry slut –"

Jackson stepped forward and pulled me away just as Clay moved to grab me, his eyes flashing. I jerked against Jackson's grasp, my blood singing with fury. "You don't even know me!" I continued. "You never even –" I forced myself to turn away, the end of that sentence dying on my lips. You never even tried to. The bar was silent as I shakily breathed and pushed away from Jackson's grasp. "I won't – tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about. Although, it doesn't seem like a very well kept secret." I finished bitterly.

Jackson's fingers gently touched the middle of my shoulder blades, his hand pointing to a nearby hallway I had never been down.

"Hey," Clay boomed. "We aren't finished here yet!"

"I got this," Jackson snapped, turning to face Clay. His chest was puffed slightly, his fists clenched determinedly. Clay visibly calmed himself and looked at Jackson's face, calculating.

After what felt like forever, he wordlessly stepped back. I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk where Jackson indicated. The men behind us were dead silent as we went. I could feel their eyes boring holes in my back like slow bullets, burning their way into me. A shiver ran down my spine as we passed the wall of mug shots. Jackson pressed his hand against my back to steer me down the hallway, and a bright blue motorcycle glittered at us under a spotlight from its position in the wall. Every decoration in this bar had taken on a double meaning, and I looked at the motorcycle like it was on fire as we passed.

He stopped at a door and his hand left my back as he dug through his pocket for a key, making a point to hold it open for me when it was unlocked. To my surprise, we entered a bedroom. The door clicked shut softly behind us and I remained silent as Jackson's shoulder brushed mine on his way to the bed. He seated himself there and focused on my face.

The silence stretched between us for a moment. I sat next to him on the bed and looked down at my hands, playing with my fingers as I sat in contemplation. He quietly watched me, waiting for me to make the first move. I pursed my lips. "So," I took a deep breath. "I guess I know what those kuttes are all about now." He continued watching me. "And a grim reaper. Is that like, the team's mascot?"

A surprised snort came from Jackson. He turned to me with a crooked smirk. "Fear the reaper."

I pressed my lips together. "I'm sorry, Jackson." I whispered. "If I've fucked anything up by knowing, or … I just… it's –" Close to me. I don't know why I can never say what I really think, but just like every other time, something stops me from admitting the whole truth. I can't bear to take that leap. "Um, surprising." I finally settle on. "I don't do well with surprises."

"Yeah." He said, though his eyes disagreed. They told me he didn't believe me. "Clay's gonna wanna talk with you… But you can't disrespect him like that, not if you're going to stick around."

I wanted to tell him. But I couldn't, so I instead I cleared my throat. "What about Juice?"

His eyebrow creased. "What about Juice?"

"He's not going to like – be in trouble with Clay or anything, right? I kind of squeezed it out of him, so you know… It's not his fault. I don't want him taking the fall for this." I finished, squirming uncomfortably. My heart weighed heavily in my chest. I felt so disappointed, so sad that this is what tore my mom from Clay. She must not have been able to take whatever it is he's mixed up with. Something happened, and I'm so close to knowing what. I'm so close to knowing him.

His eyes softened. "Juice will be fine. He screwed up a little, that's all. Happens to all of us." He sat back on the bed and sighed. "Listen, darlin', there's gonna be some shit that goes down tonight." Before I could even open my mouth to ask, he said "Club business. But I think it would be best for you to lay low for now."

I frowned, and shifted on the bed. "How can I lay any lower than I already am?"

A mischievous glint in his eye made my mouth clamp shut. I clasped my hands in my lap and he bit back whatever thought just sprang to mind. "For one, it would be best to avoid huge displays like that," he jerked his chin toward the door to the bar, "in the near future. Also, you should keep Clay at arm's length. He's suspicious of you. I wouldn't do anything to aggravate him, or attract unwanted attention." My face must have spoken my thoughts for me. "I know, it isn't an ideal situation, but it's what we've got to deal with." He paused to study my face. I picked at my nails. "You… you're so calm." I couldn't hold back a dry snort. My head hung down and I focused on my hands. "Doesn't it bother you?"

I pressed my lips together and squeezed my palms. "I… That's what scares me." I breathed. I raised my head and locked eyes with him. "I think I've known all along." His eyebrows knit together and he looked away from me for the first time since we sat down, to mull my words over. "I should've freaked out a long time ago – I should've had you drop me somewhere other than the garage after we finished up at storage yesterday, but, I …"

His expression told me that he couldn't decide if I was fascinating or crazy. "So many people in Charming know, and all of them are afraid of us - of what we stand for… and what we do."

"I lost my family, Jackson." My voice broke and his mouth hardened while his eyes softened. "I think… that's why I'm not freaking out. I already knew, and it doesn't matter to me." A wry smile tore at my mouth. "Does that make me crazy?"

He grinned. "That makes you our kind of crazy," He threw an arm around my shoulder and squeezed me close to him. We laughed and the air around us, which had been heavy, suddenly lifted, and I knew in that moment that I belonged right where I was at.

"Jackson – can I…" He watched me with curious eyes, his arm still around me. "What happened with Wendy?"

His arm slid from my shoulder and he turned his eyes away from me. "Yeah, I meant to talk to you about that. I think I'm gonna need that crib sooner than we expected."

I frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"Wendy is my ex-wife. She's an addict, and she –" A muscle jumped in his jaw as he stared at the wall ahead of him. "She overdosed and went into early labor last night."

I laid my hand on his and scrunched my eyebrow as I thought back. "You said that she still had two months…"

He stiffly nodded. "Ten weeks early. There were… complications. He's got a heart defect and a tear in his stomach, so they have to do surgery… They said he's got a twenty percent chance."

I swallowed roughly, my throat swelling with emotion. "Jackson, that's… how's he doing?"

"Gemma said he's alright for now." He turned away slightly, hiding his face. I frowned thoughtfully, not quite heartened at the news.

"Well what do you say?"

"I…" He cleared his throat and shifted on the bed. "I guess I'll find out soon."

My eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean?" … silence. "Jackson, haven't you seen him?" I looked at the back of his head and he moved to stand. I snatched his hand up and made him look at me. "Jackson! He's your–" I came up short, the words catching in my throat. I didn't wanna step over the line; I still didn't know him well. But since we're being honest, "You have to go see him."

"It's not that easy," He snapped.

"Oh, that's bullshit!" I challenged. "It really is! If his mother overdosed, he's better off without her – and you…" I closed my eyes and chose my words carefully. "I know it's scary. Of course it is, Jackson. That's what being a parent means! It's not supposed to be easy; it's supposed to challenge you. Yeah, it'll hurt like hell. It already does. But you know what hurts more?" His eyes flickered near me without actually focusing on me, and he still had his face turned away. "Being alone. Being left alone, no one there to care about what happens… no one there to hold your hand… that's the worst feeling in the world. You can't do that to him. I'm not saying you have to swoop in and be the best dad that's ever walked the earth, just being there is enough. Trust me. You're enough." My hand reached up to rest on his shoulder. "You're it, Jackson. You're more than enough. " He closed his eyes and seemed to soak in the truth of my words, his head hanging down. "And… Furthermore, you're not getting that crib until I see you with that little boy." He sent me an unimpressed look. I smirked. "There he is."

We sat there for a moment, just reflecting on our conversation. I, not for the first time, admired his eyes. The expression on his face seemed to only intensify their azurite depths as he studied my face. Slight stubble tickled his chin. He looked exhausted by our topic of conversation, but then, so was I.

I looked away and cleared my throat. "Right. Don't you have miscreant stuff to get to?"

A smile tugged at his lips. "That's right," He said as he stood. "The Club's gotta go vandalize some stuff."

"Probably antagonize the elderly, as well."

"Tag some buildings."

"Meddle in private affairs."

"Rig some chairs with whoopee cushions."

"Shock someone with a hand buzzer when they try to shake your hand."

"Spray people with the flower pinned to our kuttes."

"Toss a banana peel in the path of someone walking down the street."

"Oh, no!" Jackson had a pseudo-grim expression on as he shook his head. "That's our one rule. Banana peels are dangerous."

An amused smirk begged to stretch my lips. "Oh, so there is honor among thieves!"

He winked, a dimple appearing on his cheek. "I wouldn't know. We don't steal."

"You only… sabotage?" I continued, my face feeling hot from the surge of attraction I felt for him.

"We only get vengeance."

"Ahhh," I nodded. "Vigilantes. A ragtag team of heroes in the night, off to burn an evil lair to the ground."

Something flickered across his face. "Something like that." I moved to stand and he held a patient palm up to stop me. "Actually, you should probably give it about five minutes before you leave."

I frowned at him before it dawned on me. "Right! Lay low, don't make any sudden movements around Clay. His eyesight's based on movement. If I stay still long enough, he'll lose me like a T-Rex."

He busted out laughing. "I don't think that's exactly what we discussed."

"No?" I teasingly frowned, pretending to try and recall. "Hmmm. Perhaps I did embellish a bit, but one can never be too careful…"

He chuckled again and waved me off as he left the room, shutting the door softly behind me.

I watched the door for another second, and as soon as his footsteps disappeared from the hallway, I backed up to sit on the bed.

Crap. Among all the other things we discussed, Jackson just told me to stay away from Clay. And I don't wanna get myself kicked out of the clubhouse – don't get me wrong, but how am I supposed to… get to know him? How am I supposed to break the news to him? Then again, what would I even say? How exactly would that conversation go?

Hey, Clay! I know that you know that I know your biggest secret from the public even though I just came around, and you don't know if you can trust me yet, and I've already seemed to win the trust of the biggest players in your club, and that looks really suspicious, but it's not my fault if they seek me out and like who they find! Maybe you should give me a chance! In fact, can we talk? So, yeah. Listen. I didn't just happen into Charming to find a storage unit. I was looking for you… because you're actually my biological father. Yeah, and I was hoping to get to know you more. No? – Yes? … No?... You gotta give me a clue, here, I'm grasping… okay, then.

Yeah. Something tells me that wouldn't go well, especially since I've just managed to mark myself as suspicious. I should've kept my revelation about the club to myself. But, you know what they say. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

The next morning, I opened my eyes and rolled over with a peaceful feeling buzzing through my limbs. I felt like I had slept for a thousand years, like I had melted into the bed I lay in. My eyes hit the familiar wall of the room Jackson had lent me for the night. It was the same place we had our insightful discussion in. After he and the boys got back from – whatever they did, he had found me half awake on one of the couches in the bar and practically carried me in here to deposit me on the bed. Or did he actually carry me? I couldn't remember, but I hoped that he hadn't had to literally carry me here.

I picked myself out of the bed and stumbled into the hall. The bar was already buzzing with activity when I emerged.

The whole crew, minus Clay, sat at the bar. They cackled over muffins and good company, and I simply leaned against the door frame and smiled at them, as they hadn't noticed me yet. What I said to Jackson last night rang true in my ears as I watched these men – no, these brothers simply enjoy each other's company. I watched Juice and Chibs playfully insult each other and make bets about irrelevant shit, Bobby and Tig reminisce about some party where they accidentally hooked up with the same girl – a woman who turned out to be Tig's distant cousin.

I scrunched my face in disgust and decided to make myself known. "Ahhh, just the woman I was looking for!" Jackson put his arm out to beckon me from his spot behind the bar. I moved to join him, my eyes flickering over to Chibs, who watched me with distant eyes. Something swelled in my chest as I caught his gaze. An errant, paranoid thought streaked across my mind – had I fucked things up with him, is his sense of loyalty to the club preventing him from continuing our friendship?

I timidly smiled and waved at him, and he winked at me as Jackson said, "So listen, I was thinking after we eat we could swing by the storage unit to get that crib for the baby."

"Boy, you kids moved fast," Tig quipped, earning a smack on the back of the head from Jackson.

"I get the feeling that you have no room to talk, Tig." I said slowly, smirking at the man in question.

He spent half a second looking offended as the men howled around him, smacking his arm and beating the counter before he joined in with a belly-laugh. "She's a quick one," He winked at me as he threw a piece of muffin into his mouth, although his winks are desperately more sexual than Jackson's or Chibs's. This brought an amused smile to my face, but I quickly realized it came across as encouraging to this incorrigible man as his eyes lit up.

I wiped the expression from my face and turned to Jackson with a shudder that I tried my best to disguise. Jackson's eyes twinkled with laughter as he watched me, that cocky knowing grin begging to grace his face. My eyes narrowed. "Well, I see you've already forgotten the conditions I made last night." I leaned close to him as he passed me a muffin so I could speak privately. He tilted his head in question. "Hospital first, then crib."

He swallowed. "You're serious about that?" He turned to frown curiously at me, leaving our faces inches apart. I blinked at the proximity, scolding myself as I momentarily lost focus in his eyes.

I blinked again. "You betcha. I'm a woman of her word."

His eyes flickered across my face. He lowered his voice. "I went last night," he admitted.

I raised my eyebrows and sat back in surprise. "You did?"

His Adam's apple bobbed. "He was… so," He broke off and his eyes touched mine. I softened.

"I'm glad you went after all."

"Yeah, well, some chick had a pretty smooth speech that showed me how I needed to be."

I smirked, breathing a laugh. "Smooth speech, huh?"

He shrugged kindly at me. "Seemed to do the trick."

"Well then," I began, leaning away to take a bite of the muffin. "Holy shit," I groaned, my eyes wide as I looked down at the majestic pastry in my hand. "This is fucking amazing!"

Jackson laughed. "Careful, Lizzie!" Chibs hollered from a nearby table. "Shite's addictin'! It's makin' me fat!"

I waved in thanks to Bobby, who Jackson told me supplied the beautiful pieces of divine clouds, and turned back to the conversation at hand. "As I was saying, I would still like to see him." I carefully watched his reaction, which was one of surprise. "If that's not weird, and it's okay with you," I quickly added, and he popped the rest of the muffin in his mouth.

"Let's go, then." He waved me around the counter as he went. I stared at him in shock for a split second before I quickly stuffed the rest of the muffin in my face and scrambled after him.

I nearly stopped in my tracks in confusion for a split second when I saw a truck waiting for us outside.

"Hopin' for a different ride?" Jackson smirked at me, and I stubbornly jutted my chin out.

"No," I muttered, and he laughed as I slid into the leather passenger seat.

"Don't worry, darlin'. I'll still let you straddle me."

I slammed the door shut with a disgruntled pout and he laughed harder. I turned to him with false smoldering eyes. "Don't tempt me," I feigned a sultry voice and winked at him. He watched me with cautious eyes, still slightly shaking with laughter. I slid across the seat and let my hand run across his thigh and his laughter cut out with an abrupt hiccup. I threw my head back and laughed. "Your face! You should see your face!"

A crooked grin tugged at his lip as he turned the key. "Oh, that was a dirty, dirty trick, woman."

I continued snickering all the way to the hospital, Jackson's grumbles echoing me the whole time. By the time we walked through the front doors, an amicable mood had been set between the pair of us.

"I knew you liked it that first time," Jackson smugly beamed at me. I narrowed my eyes.

"You're still on about that?"

He merely winked at me. I let out a quiet hmph and crossed my arms. "Maybe I would've enjoyed it if there had been an experienced man at the wheel."

His eyebrows shot up. "You did not just say that to me." He pressed the elevator button.

I shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe someone should stick the training wheels back on your bike. I don't think you're quite ready yet."

"Oh yeah?" He lunged for me and I tried to dodge him. His hand clamped down on my shoulder and he hooked an arm around my waist. His clever fingers pressed strategic spots on my ribs. "Where's your sweet spot, hmm?"

I let out a girly cry and smacked his hands as I scrambled to get away. "I don't have one!" I squeaked. But my body betrayed me when he tickled the spot at the bottom of my ribs, and I jerked sideways into his chest.

He let out a triumphant bark of laughter. "You were saying?"

"Stop!" I giggled wildly, struggling against his strong arms, and reached desperately for an escape. "Stop it, Jackson!"

He mercilessly continued his assault. "What?" He said over my peals of laughter. "I can't hear you! Did you say harder?" His wicked fingers found the spot on the other side of my ribs, so that I was completely at his mercy as I squirmed against his stomach. Every time I would try to step away, he would tickle me backwards into his arms. I was trapped. "Faster?"

"Jackson!" I pleaded through tears of laughter, and saw from the corner of my eye as a nurse and a tired looking man at the front counter gave me a dirty look. "You have to – stop!" I gasped, "People are – getting offended, Jackson – we're …" I could barely get the words out and his chest rumbled against my back when I snorted.

His fingers suddenly stilled, though he still held me close. My heart pounded against my chest like the frantic hooves of a racehorse and I gasped desperately for much-needed air. My stomach burned with the sweet soreness of laughter. "Admit it," His mouth was at my ear as he held me from behind, his voice low and quiet. My eyes widened at his tactics and wild goosebumps raced up my neck where his warm breath blew down it, and suddenly my heart was racing and my stomach burned for a different reason. I abruptly stopped wriggling, the breath stilling in my throat, and I could hear the smile in his voice as his mouth tickled my ear and he whispered, "I wanna hear you say it."

I turned my face to look into his eyes, our noses just centimeters from brushing as I opened my mouth and whispered, "Never!"

His fingers jabbed into my sides and I jerked forward with a loud yelp, nearly toppling forward as the elevator doors dinged open. He chortled with laughter and let me go as I stumbled forward. This knocked me off balance, my arms flailed and I almost smacked headfirst into a woman on the elevator.

"Shit!" I cried, ducking back and crashing against the wall. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" My hands clamped over my mouth in horror when I saw who it was.

Gemma stood there with a sour expression on her face. She had her purse clutched in her hands as she looked between me and her son. I only just managed to fight back what I wanted to say – It was his fault! He started it! – and I slowly shook my head. "I'm sorry, I'm, uh, really…" My eyes flickered to Jackson, who bit his knuckle to smother his laughter. Great. No help there. "Excited to see the baby," I awkwardly cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably when her eyebrows shot up.

She turned to Jackson. "You're taking her to see Abel?" Her thumb jabbed in accusation at me. I tried not to be offended at her tone.

Amusement still twinkled in his blue eyes. "Yeah, ma. She's letting me have her family's old crib. I figured she should at least see what she's giving it up for."

With some effort, I kept a straight face at this. A very large part of me wanted to ask him whether he had guessed that or was just trying to save face in front of Gemma. Something told me he had somehow managed to deduce the truth as his eyes slid to mine for a nanosecond. Gemma looked between us again. "Really?" She said, turning an impressed and altogether friendlier expression to me. "I don't think we've officially met yet, hon. I'm Gemma. Thank you for the crib; I don't know how we would've found one on such short notice." She jutted a hand out to me.

I noted that her gaze briefly focused on my hand before I shook her hand. "Call me Liz. It's not a problem, it's just collectin' dust in my storage unit at the moment. Not doing anyone any good there, ya know?"

"What, a pretty thing like you, and no kids?" Her eyes skimmed not so surreptitiously to Jackson. He just stepped smugly onto the elevator and watched me struggle. I blinked in surprise.

"Well – no, I guess not." I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. "It's never seemed like the right time."

She tilted her head and hummed in approval. "Listen to that, Jax. Someone with her head on straight. But lemme tell you, sweetie, you keep waitin' for the right time and you're gonna die alone."

I pressed my lips together soberly. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Jackson, honey, I still want to do that dinner, okay?" And just like that, her focus was off me and on her son. He nodded at her.

"I'll bring the steaks." He smiled sweetly at her. I watched with interest as he interacted with his mother, and they bantered back and forth briefly about whether to serve meat or just not invite Half-Sack - who is apparently a vegetarian.

"What about you?" Gemma suddenly prompted, her head turned to me.

"Huh?" I dumbly asked, and Jackson smirked at me.

"Are you some sorta hippie-dippy-tree-hugger, or will you eat meat?"

"Hell no. I never did get into that whole 'save the animals' shit." I smirked at her. "It's just not natural."

"Damn straight." She grunted, turning back to Jackson. "Bring her 'round, too." He raised his eyebrows in surprise and nodded at her. "I'll see you soon, sweetie." They kissed cheeks and she waved at me as she left.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, I smacked the back of Jackson's head.

"Ow!" He threw his arms out in confusion. "What the fuck?"

"You know why," I jabbed my finger in his face and he opened his mouth to respond, but the doors opened and he clamped his mouth shut to lead the way.

When we approached the window to his room, I slowed in surprise. The tiniest bundle of blue lay in an incubator, his small red face peaceful as he slept.

"I know." Jackson said beside me. His face was soft, and expression I had never seen before fell across it. I wanted to take a picture. He stepped forward and laid his hand on the glass. "The first time I saw him, it's like the breath was stolen away from me." I joined him at the window to peer in the NICU as a nurse wrote on a chart near the incubator. "And I thought, how can something so small be so big?"

An involuntary smile flashed across my mouth. I realized, as I watched him gaze at his son, that this is what a father should look like. "So, Abel, huh?"

He turned to look at me. "Yeah. It felt right, ya know?"

"It's strong, Biblical." I watched the small bundle in the NICU as I spoke. "I'm not particularly religious, but I think if I was, that would be the name I chose, too."

He chewed thoughtfully on his lip. "So," He started, sounding slightly awkward for the first time since I'd met him. "Did you tell my mom the truth? Back in the elevator, I mean. You've been waiting for the right time?"

I looked back to the delicate sleeping form through the glass again. "I don't know what I've been waiting for. It's just never felt… quite right. Before. I don't know how to explain it." I shook my head to myself and thought about the previous times I had considered it. "It just seems like something that's better left to people who …"

I looked down and trailed off. The end of that sentence hung heavily between us, though I couldn't quite find the right words to give him. How could I say that I never felt worthy? How could I say that I'm afraid? How could I explain to him that I don't know what it means to be a parent anymore? My mother and I were best friends, but she definitely had her faults. And she's not even here to teach me how to do it anymore. I don't have a family. I don't have a mother, or a father. I don't have a support system – so how could I be expected to be a support system for a baby?

"Last week, my mother passed. She smoked like a train her whole life, and it... well, it killed her. By the time they caught it…" I trailed off and cleared my throat. "Anyways, I guess I did sort of tell the truth. It's just never felt like … me. But lately, I don't even know who I am anymore."

His hand touched my arm where it rested against the window of the NICU. "You're not so bad," He joked, nudging my gently, and I grinned in response and nudged him back. "I'm sorry about your mother."

I looked down at his hand where it lay on my arm and brushed my fingers against his knuckles where two rings that spelled out Sons sat. "She was ready, I think. It was her time. She suffered too long, and by the end I just… I was relieved that I didn't have to watch her fight just to breathe anymore." I turned back to the glass and moved my arm from the window sill, causing his hand to fall back to his side as I held myself. "But you're different from me, Jackson. You're ready for this." I sighed quietly. "You're ready for him. And wherever you might fail, you've got a family there to back you up. Abel is already so lucky." I smiled softly at Jackson. "Like I said, you're enough."

He had his gaze turned back his son, his eyes troubled. "I hope you're right."

I followed his line of sight. "I am."

The metal door of my storage unit opened much easier this time around. It still squealed slightly, but not nearly as it had before. My eyes flickered around the unit. "There's nothing else in here you want, right?"

Jackson looked at me in surprise. "You'd give me something else?"

"Sure, otherwise I think I'm gonna sell it all. Except for that chair." I added, pointing at the plush chair I perched on during our last visit. "That's mine."

He smirked. "That's the only thing I would've asked for."

I scoffed. "Liar. You're only saying that because I want it."

"I guess we'll never know," He teased, and walked over to the crib.

We got on either end of it and began to lug it toward the ramp that led up to the bed of his truck.

"Holy shit," I grunted, breathing heavily. "You couldn't have brought Half-Sack along to make him help you?"

Jackson chuckled. "I thought you'd be able to handle a little heavy lifting. Was I wrong?"

I glared at him. "Is that a challenge?" He winked. I growled to myself and lifted with renewed gusto. "Smug bastard," I muttered as we waddled over to where he directed.

"Think of it this way," He sighed as we finally settled the crib in a corner of his bed. He brushed past me to retrieve some straps. I helped him stretch them over the crib. "You're getting a free homemade meal out of the deal."

"How about we sweeten the deal with a place to sleep tonight, and we'll call it square?" I stood back to let him adjust the straps. I told myself not to gawk at his muscles as he tightened them, but that proved to be a difficult task under the bright California sun. He was just too beautiful for his own good.

"Are you trying to come onto me, Liz?" Jackson peeked at me from where he worked, a shit eating grin on his face as he squinted with one eye open against the bright sun and I scoffed.

"If I try to come onto you, Jackson, you'll know it."

His eyebrows shot up and he turned to look at my face. "Promise?" He quipped.

I laughed. "Shut up and strap the crib in."

He smirked, flashing his dimples at me, and turned back to his work. "Yes, ma'am."

Later that night, after we passed some time back at the garage, we pulled up to Jackson's parent's house. We hopped out of the truck, and I tried not to cringe as Clay strode out of the house and hugged Jackson in greeting, clapping his back. "Hey, son. Whatcha got there?" He asked as he peered at me.

"Crib for the baby," I said before Jackson could explain my presence.

Clay jerked a nod of understanding. "Oh? Your crib?"

"Yeah," I said, and Jackson looked between us for a second.

"Wanna help me unload it, Clay?" He threw his arm around my dad's shoulder and they made their way to the back of the truck.

"You made it!" Gemma said from behind me. I turned and smiled at her.

"Oh, I was promised a homemade dinner. Wouldn't miss those for the world."

"Then you've come to the right place." She said, and slid an arm over my shoulder amicably, much like Jackson had just done to Clay. I stomped my surprise at her obvious gesture of unwarranted affection, chalking it up to the nature of a woman who was clearly friendly. I was clueless to the mass number of people that would strongly disagree with that notion. "The boys are already here, except for Bobby. They're inside if you wanna join them. You could help with the cooking, as long as you're not helpless in the kitchen."

"I can hold my own," I started.

"She was raised in a restaurant, ma!" Jackson interrupted from where he and Clay were in the back of the truck. We both wheeled around as Gemma turned to look at her son in surprise from our spot on the porch.

"Is that so?" She said, her eyes briefly meeting Clay's.

"How did you know that?" I called to Jackson.

"Chibs." He shrugged. I thought back to the pancakes I made for him and Bobby and Happy, and nodded in understanding.

"Well then," Gemma opened the door for me and gestured for me to step inside. "We could use another set of hands. Hey, boys!" She waved back at Jackson and Clay. "I'll go open the garage door; I don't want you coming through the living room or the kitchen with that thing while the house is full! We can move it later."

I moved into the living room and waited for Gemma inside. Chibs and some man I didn't recognize sat on a couch, joking and laughing. I waved eagerly to Chibs and started to approach him, but the expression on his face brought me up short. I felt my heart sink to my stomach as he nodded stiffly at me and abruptly returned to his conversation like I wasn't even there.

I saw Gemma walking past me and realized she had been speaking to me. I cleared my throat and scrambled after her. "So tell me, Liz, is it?" I nodded stiffly as we walked through the house. She paused and introduced me to a man she claimed to be Clay's cousin and I nearly stumbled back in shock when a little head full of brown hair blurred past me. "Walk, Raymond!" She hollered, and then explained to me that that was Clay's cousin's son.

I was in shock. Not the medical kind, the normal kind, but still shock nonetheless. I just met three more members of my family. I watched them play and talk with the rest of the people in the house after briefly waving at me, and realized that they had no idea who I was. I didn't know how to feel about that.

"Anyways! Tell me more about this restaurant you grew up in," Gemma continued through the living room to a bustling kitchen. I saw a tall woman with blonde hair and a fit figure chopping carrots and chatting with a smaller, younger brunette. The brunette, I soon found out, was Clay's cousins' wife. The list of my new family grew a little more.

"It was the restaurant my mother worked in." I absentmindedly explained. I felt undeniably overwhelmed, answering her questions by default. I didn't even pause to filter them. "The owner and her were best friends. She liked to preoccupy me with chores. Said it was good for my character," I paused and looked back at Gemma.

"What's your specialty?" She asked, popping a carrot into her mouth. The blonde woman smacked her hand.

"Gem!" She scolded, and winked at me as she said, "Those aren't ready yet."

I smiled when Gemma waved her off and turned away to dig through a drawer. "I worked quite a bit with mixing things, but as I grew older I tended to gravitate toward the grill."

She turned back to me with a white joint pinched in her fingers. I blinked in surprise as she lifted a lighter to the tip and took a long drag. "Ever since this," She ran her finger down a faded pink scar that was nestled in her cleavage, and I immediately realized she had – at some point – received heart surgery, "We use the grill a lot. Threw the fryer out. Actually, it didn't have anything to do with a bad diet, but you can't be too careful."

She passed the joint to the young brunette and picked up a plate of raw meat. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulder as she tugged a back door open and hit the storm door with her hip, jerking her head for me to follow her.

She strutted up to a grill that smoked near the door, setting the plate of meat down. I joined her and she picked up a pair of tongs, holding them handle-side out to me. "Think of it as your initiation. If you can put your money where your mouth is, you'll pass the test."

I blinked at her. Test? "Okay," I said slowly, and took the tongs from her. I peered at the seasoning that was already prepped for me. "Hmmm," I hummed to myself. "Actually, since this is for a grade, you don't happen to have any shallots, butter, and boxed red wine, do you?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Honey, I've always got wine. It's from a bottle, though."

I shrugged a shoulder. "That'll do."

Twenty minutes later, she inspected my work. "What's that for?" She asked, pointing down at the sauce as I sliced another cube of butter into the mixture. I continued this until it was glossy and smooth.

"Trust me. You've probably had plenty of steak, but you've never had it like this." I closed the grill and turned to Gemma and – I learned that the blonde's name was Luann – and smirked. "You'll never wanna have it any other way after this."

Luann sent Gemma skeptical look. "Hmph. Well, I guess we'll see, won't we?" Tough crowd.

"So, are you married, Liz?" Gemma asked from her spot on the patio. I connected this question with the subtle way she had eyed my ring finger back at the hospital. She and Luann were gathered at a cute table with one of those huge decorative umbrellas stuck in the middle, cigarettes hanging from their mouths. I couldn't be around the smoke without thinking of my mother, and I ignored the ache in my chest as I answered.

"Nope. Came close once, a life time ago, but that didn't work out." I busied myself with the grill. "Obviously," I added.

"What happened?" Gemma pressed, and I pretended not to notice when Luann kicked her under the table behind me. Gemma widened her eyes and shrugged at her in innocence. Luann gave her a scolding look.

"We wanted very different things in life. He went on to college, took a desk job at some law firm, and married his secretary." I smiled wryly. "I think the idea of such a … quaint life turned me off."

Luann hummed in appreciation. "I think we can both relate to that sentiment." She purred mischievously. I dipped my finger in the sauce to sample it, decided to add more wine and let it simmer some more. "Is that why you're hanging around Jax?"

I sputtered on the small bit of sauce in my mouth, coughing heavily. Gemma and Luann shared an amused glance. "Oh, no." I managed, waving her question off a little too forcefully. "That's just – it's, I wrecked my car. It's in the shop, so I've been waiting on that to get repaired, and he… needed a crib. So –"

"Alright, alright, don't hurt yourself, babe." Gemma smiled at me and Luann smirked behind her hand. "She's just teasing you. We all know Jax has a lot on his plate right now with Abel. He doesn't need any distractions."

I tried to relax my shoulders in relief, but something was still tight in my neck. I cleared my throat. "Right. Exactly."

"I bet your family is missing you," Gemma continued, taking a drag from her cigarette and watching me closely with feigned casualness.

This time, I didn't even try to hide my shoulders stiffening up. "I don't think so," I said, my throat tight.

"Oh?" Gemma surreptitiously leaned closer in intrigue. I could tell that she thought she was being sneaky, but she couldn't be more obvious if she tried. I wasn't stupid. Gemma doesn't trust me – that's probably why she really invited me tonight. She's feeling me out. I wondered if she suspected who my mother was. I wondered if she would ask after her.

"They're all dead." I said flatly, my voice coming out slightly strained.

A deafening silence fell over the patio, save for the sizzling meat and hissing metal of the foil wrapped corn. "…Oh." Gemma finally managed, this oh coming out much guiltier and heavier than her previous. "Jesus, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I had no idea."

I smiled bitterly and turned to wave her off with my tongs. "How could you know? Don't worry about it. It is what it is."

Luann took a big swig of her beer. "This conversation just got way too heavy for Sunday dinner."

I pursed my lips and bit back the urge to bark a sarcastic apology. "That's my fault," Gemma shook her head. "I'm just being a nosy old bitty. Jesus, I sounded just like my mother with those questions!" She chuckled and gave Luann a light punch on the shoulder. "Shoulda told me to put a plug in it!"

I forced a laugh with the women, and turned the grill off. "I can handle a little third degree," I winked at Gemma who at least had the decency to smile sheepishly at me. "I grew up with the most prying, know-it-all woman that's walked the earth. She ran the restaurant I told you about."

"They'd be peas in a pod!" Luann smirked, dodging Gemma's fists and joining me by the grill. She smiled and laid a hand on my shoulder in an unexpected gesture of affection. "But you turned out just fine, darlin', so maybe there's somethin' to be said about their methods, huh?"

I smiled back in appreciation and winked at Gemma. "I trust that woman more than anyone else, to this day. So I feel inclined to agree with you, Luann."

Gemma stubbed her cigarette out and rose from her seat. "Alright, the boys are probably clawing at the walls. We better get in there."

They got the plates of corn and helped me carry the meat back into the house, Luann heading the group. She hollered that dinner was ready, though this proved to be unnecessary as we found that the table was set, the men and children already gathered and waiting. Luann sat down next to the brunette at the end of the table.

I came in behind Gemma, and caught the opportunity to witness her admiring the group at the table as they joked and bantered. I took the moment to try and see what she was seeing, and I saw a family. I saw her family, and I felt an unexpected pang of longing strike my heart. My eyes flickered to Clay as he laughed with Jackson and smiled sweetly at Gemma. Gemma went to join Clay at the front of the table as I laid the plate of meat down in the center.

I turned to scope out a spot, and discovered that the only vacant seat was between Chibs and Jackson. Jackson pulled the chair out without standing and patted the seat next to him. I eyed Chibs as I made my way over, while Gemma explained that the steak needed a bit of sauce as she served Clay first.

"Eh?" Clay poked his fork through the sauce on his plate.

"Just try it," Gemma gently scolded, her eyes trailing to me. She winked and turned back to Clay. "You never know. You might just like it."

I swallowed nervously and waited with baited breath as he raised the tip of his fork up to his mouth to sample the sauce. He smacked his lips tentatively and raised his eyebrows. "That's not bad!" He nodded, and asked where she got the recipe.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you?" She said casually as she cut her own piece of steak and served herself. "Liz made the steaks tonight. It's her family's recipe." She drizzled the sauce next to her steak and shared a soft smile with me.

I cleared my throat and ducked my head, shifting under Clay's gaze. He grunted and grudgingly complimented my cooking. Guilt ate at my stomach. These people, they were welcoming me into their lives – into their Sunday dinner… and I can't even be honest with them!

My eyes slid over to Chibs, who watched me with a twisted mouth. He locked gaze with me, his eyes tight. I deflated and turned away from him in confusion. Where is this newfound distrust coming from?

I sighed heavily and piled my plate with food, choosing to ignore Chibs for now. I felt something brush my knee, and looked down to see Jackson nudging me. I looked up at him and he beamed at me happily. I couldn't bite back a smile and nudged him back with my elbow.

"Liz, you gotta give us this recipe," Clay suddenly declared near the end of the meal, patting his stomach contentedly. I felt something unfamiliar tickle that dead spot in my chest, the spot that was born from not knowing my father, and I tried not to let my face burn under his praise.

"It's a family secret," I cryptically said with a smile playing at the corner of my lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't have let me watch you prepare it then," Gemma piped up dryly. I didn't even try to hold back my laugh.

"Well, I guess the secret's gotta live on, right?"

She blinked in surprise and focused on my face for a second. My words caught up with me and my face ignited like a log soaked in gas.

"I mean – I was just…" I clasped my hands under the table and told myself to get a grip. Jackson put his arm over my chair kindly and tried to calm me with a smile. "Guess it's not a secret anymore."

Gemma's face was unreadable as she took Clay's hand and turned away from me without a word. I felt a pair of eyes burning the back of my head. I turned to see Chibs watching me intently. I frowned at him and he shifted closer to me, so I leaned over to hear him.

"We need tuh talk." He whispered, and my heart kicked up as I thought over what he could possibly want to discuss. "After dinner, outside."

I nodded, my throat tight in confusion and dread. Jackson looked at me with a raised eyebrow and I forced a smile at him.

Then – just as dessert was about to be served, Clay said something and the whole table laughed. As I had been for the last ten minutes, I snuck a glance at Chibs. His eyes flickered between me and Clay. And then it hit me.

The pictures. I left them at his house – the box with everything my mother had left to offer me – it was all still in his bedroom. Shit that I hadn't even seen yet was written in that journal! It's all there. It's all written out for him, waiting to be discovered. A gross sensation of panic ran, ice cold, through my veins. I jerked my eyes back to his face and suddenly it all clicked.

Chibs knows.

*Evil laugh* Dum, dum, dummmmm! What's gonna happen next!? Stay tuned for the next installment of COA: The Hunt for Lineage, etc, etc, to find out! Coming soon, because I won't promise a specific date anymore. Lesson Learned.

OH! And P.S., if you can't tell, I'm digging the Lizzy/Jax pairing more so than Lizzy/Chibs, so far as romance is concerned. Hope that's alright, because I've got some dramatically cute and angsty stuff planned ;)

Review, I love to hear your ideas/thoughts! Believe it or not, I definitely take your advice and often times I will shape the story to what you guys suggest and point out. Without your input, this story is nothing!