Update! Still Elena's POV; she needed more time lol


ELENA


Sometimes I think I must be cursed.

Maybe that's the reason for all the shit that's happening to me?

Why else would the single most important night of my life be ruined by the past rearing its ugly head?

"Elena? Babe, you okay?"

Damon's voice breaks through the ice that's settled in my bones, and I force my gaze to his.

My head does some nodding, I think, though I'm not sure it's convincing.

"I...uh...bathroom," I manage to get out, and swallow a time or two to clear the thickness in my throat, "I need to use the bathroom."
Bonnie starts to get up, "I can come with-"

"No," I say, and hope that it didn't sound as brash to her ears as it did mine, "No, that's okay. I'll be right back."

They seem to accept that without much question, and I'm able to slink away from the table, waiting until the crowd swallows me before changing directions from the restrooms to the back of the auditorium, where I knew a familiar face was waiting.

It's a struggle, getting across the room, a lot more so without Damon there to shoulder our classmates out of my path, but eventually, I reach my destination.

Only to find it empty.

My head darts around, the few stragglers lingering here in the dark ignoring me as panic seizes my chest.

Surely I hadn't just imagined….

"Elena."

Another sliver of ice runs down my spine at the voice, and stiffly, I turn around.

And there he was, President patch and all….

"Dad?"


John Gilbert steps from the shadows just enough for me to make out his face.

"What are you doing here?" I demand in a voice that comes out barely above a whisper.

My father smiles and his voice drips sarcasm, "You didn't think I was going to miss your senior prom, did you?"

He opens his arms, as if expecting me to run into them as I had when I was a child.

To inform him just how wrong he is of that notion, I cross my arms across my chest, "Don't joke around. You wouldn't come all this way without a good reason."

His expression falters slightly and he drops the pretense, "Yeah...yeah, you're right. I do have a reason. We need to talk. Outside. Now."

I blink in surprise, "You're kidding, right? I'm sort of in the middle of something here."

"This?" he arches a brow and laughs, "Good one, kiddo."

His hand touches my elbow, tugging slightly, "Come on, we need to go."

"No," I yank my arm from his grip, "I'm not going anywhere with you. Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!"

A familiar gleam of frustration filters through his eyes and he sighs, "The Family is outside waiting. We need to move you."

Just as the obvious follow up question jumps to my lips, he beats me to the punch, "Elena, the Kings know where you are."


Fear, more than anything else, gets my feet moving, my father's words fast in my ear as he leads me toward the exit, "Your picture came up on some website. We were able to trace its location, so I have no doubt the Kings will do the same, if they haven't already."

We are at the doors now, slipping outside, "I would ask what the hell you were thinking, letting pictures like that be taken of you, but seeing the post, I gathered it wasn't exactly a posed session."

"No shit," I mutter and shake my head, "But how do you know the Kings even saw it? It's a high school social media page. It means nothing-"

"It means enough," he growls, "And I'm not taking any chances."

We are in the parking lot now, and my stomach does another somersault as I see a line of bikes near the rear, all occupied by faces I'd grown up most of my life.

"Did you bring the entire club?" I freeze midstep, taking off my mask as my eyes scan the group.

It falls to the ground as I count at least nine bikers staring back at us.

Dad shrugs, "Couldn't be sure the Kings weren't already going to be here. I wanted to be prepared. Luckily, it seems we got here first. The club's going to move you to a more secured location and after I take care of the little shit that leaked those photos of you, I'll join the-"

"Stop!" I exclaim, backing away from him, "Just stop. You...you can't do this."

"Do what?" he asks impatiently.

I gesture broadly with my hands, "This! Any of this! I...I don't want you to hurt anyone and I don't want to go anywhere."

"Tough, sweet pea," he chides easily, grabbing my arm to pull me a few more feet toward the bikes, "Your mom's going to be waiting at the hotel. We will need to jump around a bit, shake off anyone who might be following us. And I'll be needing the Parker kid's address. No way in hell I'm letting him get by with-"

"I said no!" I jerked free once more, and steeled myself with a lifted chin, "You aren't doing this, Dad! Not in this town. Not around me!"

He stops to look at me; really looks at me, and gets angry.

"You'll do whatever I tell you to do, little girl. I'm your father, and-"

"Oh, how convenient for you to remember that now," I snap as my eyes get wet, "But you're wrong. I don't have to do a damn thing you say. I don't wear your patch. You're not my president." I straighten further, holding his stare, "This is my home, now. I'm staying here."

My father isn't a man used to rejection and that fact is written in the tension that is leaking from every pore of his body now.

You don't tell John Gilbert no.

"You want a war breaking out in this precious new home of yours?" he asks me slowly, "Because that's what's going to happen if we stay and the Kings show up."

I shake my head, "Then go. I don't need you to protect me. I don't need you for anything."

He looks affronted for a second, then sneers coldly, "Oh. Right, I'd almost forgotten. Grayson told me about the good and noble motorcycle enthusiast you've been spending your time with. Guess you think they'll have your back, when the Mikaelson's come calling."

He takes my chin into his hand, squeezing it roughly as he gets close to my face, "Well I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but these wannabes aren't family. They don't mean shit."

I push against him until he lets me go and anger spikes through my blood, ripping out in my voice, "They're more my family than you are! And they've done more for me than you ever have!"

"Really?" he challenges, "Have they? Have they bled for you? Killed for you?"

"Better," I fire back, "They've shown me that a life without all of that is possible. That I can be who I am and still have some normalcy!"

Good and pissed off now, my father snarls, "Normal is irrelevant to people like us, Elena! You wanna be who you are? You're a killer. Like me. You think this new family of yours is going to understand that? Hell, that my brother even will? You think he won't kick you to the curb the moment he realizes what he took in?"

I flinch and Dad advances, "I kept the facts from Grayson because I wanted you safe. And you haven't told him, have you?"

When I don't answer, he laughs, "Of course you haven't! Because you know the truth. We aren't like them."

"I'm not like you," my lips tremble, and my fists are clenched so tight my arms are shaking, "Kol was an accident."

Dad sighs, "Accident or not, the Kings will come for you. And who would you rather have in your corner as protection? A group of charitable do-gooders...or the Family, who will do whatever it takes to keep you safe?"

I swallow and his words spin in my head, dredging up memories of a different night, with similar words spoken.

I told you that I'd make sure you're safe.

Damon's voice, what now feels like a lifetime ago.

I love you, Elena and I'm going to do whatever it takes to protect you. You can trust that.

Safe isn't how I feel now, looking at my father, with an entire charter of the Founding Family behind him.

It's how I feel doing homework at the kitchen island with Miranda bustling around prepping dinner.

It's how I feel when I beat Uncle Grayson four times in a row at a card game.

It's how I feel joking with Lily in the breakroom at work.

Safe is how I feel when I'm in Damon's arms, surrounded by our friends in the Brotherhood clubhouse.

The answer to my father's question is more simple than I thought, so with a settling breath, I repeat my statement from before.

"I don't need you."


"Elena-"

Dad lifts a hand, as if to touch me, but before he can say or do anything else, a car pulls up behind the line of bikes, and it's one I recognize.

Relief fills me as Uncle Grayson steps out of the four door, and Dad turns and notices what has taken my attention.

If the sight of seeing his brother for the first time in years is a shock, he hides it well, his expression becoming clear of all emotion as he straightens.

Grayson, however, looks pissed.

"John!" he shouts, storming in our direction, "What the hell are you thinking?!"

Some of the club members look as if they want to stop him, but Dad waves them down, "Nice of you to join us, brother."

Grayson doesn't stop until he is right next to us, and I don't miss how his body slides pointedly between Dad and myself.

"You show up without even a phone call to take Elena away and send a spokesman to my house to explain?" I've never seen this expression on my Uncle's face before; pure anger and spite, "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"If you'd listened to my spokesman, you'd know that Elena's location has been compromised. It's better if we leave," Dad says simply, as if Grayson's attitude is no more than a minor nuisance.

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere," I remind him.

Dad glowers over at me, "And I've told you, you don't have a choice."

"The hell she doesn't," Grayson defends me, "You can't just come here and drag her out of her life because of problems with your club! She deserves better than that."

A humorless grimace flashes my father's teeth, "Listen to you, sounding all paternal."

The jibe must strikes Grayson as hurtful, because he flinches a little once it's delivered, and Dad leaps on the opened wound, "She is my daughter, and she's in danger. I'm taking her with me and I'll be damned if you or anyone else is going to stop me."

Uncle Grayson's eyes flash and his chin lifts defiantly as he steps closer to my father, "What are you gonna do, John? Kill me? Because that's the only way she's leaving with you."

When Dad doesn't back down, he adds, "You sending her here is the only selfless thing you've ever done for her. Whatever problem the Family has, she isn't apart of it."

"Oh, but she is," Dad hisses, and his eyes flash to mine, "You want to tell him, little girl, or should I?"

Fear and anger are squeezing my throat, but when Grayson looks at me, his gaze so full of concern, I know he deserves to hear the truth.

"There was an accident, before I came here," I force out the words, "One of the Kings tried to hurt me and ended up dead when I defended myself. Mom and Dad got rid of the body."

Now Grayson is the one with the tight throat, and he swallows several times.

"That's why?" he finally manages to say, "Why they sent you here?"

I nod, "The Mikaelson's would have deducted what happened by now. If they find me...I'm dead."

He stares at me for a long moment, until Dad cuts in, "So you see why it's best if she leaves with me. Wouldn't want this blowing back on that precious little family of yours."

Grayson hits him.

One moment, our eyes are locked, and the next, he's swinging his fist straight into my father's jaw.


I scream out as the sickening crunch of skin on skin sends John back a few staggering steps, and Grayson stays on him.

"You mother fucker," my Uncle bellows, shoving Dad so hard they both end up on the ground.

At the moment Grayson has the upper hand and he pins his brother as he continues punching between words, "You. Did. This!"

"Stop," I plead, and some of the other Family members step closer to the brawl.

They won't interfere though, not until my father tells them to, but one of them does grab me, holding me back as I leap to get between the two men.

As I struggle against the biker's grip, the surprise of attack wears off and Dad fights back, rolling so that he is on top of Grayson and I notice some blood trickling from his nose, "Mind your place, brother! This isn't your business anymore."

Uncle Grayson bucks beneath him, tossing his weight, "She is my place; my business! And you know damn well why!"

"Please!" I shout again, begging them to listen as the man holding me tightens his grip, "This isn't helping anything!"

They don't listen.

And as if things weren't bad enough already, all my nightmares come to life with a single word, yelled across the parking lot.

My name, Damon's voice, "Elena!"


No. No no no, God no!

I shove against the man holding me enough to turn my head and see Damon running in our direction.

The only saving grace is that Dad seems to have heard him call to me, because he's pulling himself off of Uncle Grayson, standing.

"Let go," I growl, finally twisting my wrist free of my captor's hold and push him away from me.

I start toward Damon, hoping I can cut him off and keep him from getting involved, but Dad's hand on my arm keeps me in place.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To keep you from causing any more problems in my life," I snap at him, but I yank my arm loose too late.

Damon is already there, his mask from earlier gone, and his expression is the same as the one he'd had the night he'd been baited by Kai.

"Elena," he says my name again, and his hands are on me the moment he's close enough, but his eyes are scanning, flickering between my father, uncle, and other club members.

My father stares at his hand on my waist and the way Damon's pulled me into his chest and his teeth flash.

"I'm guessing this was the boy defiling you in those pictures?" his words are slow, dangerous.

Damon stiffens and I turn, so that my back is to him, between him and my dad.

"He's her boyfriend," Grayson, who has pulled himself to his feet, says as he moves to stand next to me, "And uninvolved in any of this."

His head inclines toward us, "In fact, Damon, why don't you take Elena back inside while we talk. No need for the two of you to miss the dance."

"Gladly," Damon agrees, obviously eager to remove me from what he would perceive as a dangerous situation, but I'm not about to leave Grayson alone with my father.

And John is in no mood to be taking orders from his brother.

"Do you need your ears checked?" he demands, rounding on Grayson, "The only place she'll be going is with me."

"The hell she is," Damon steps out from behind me now, gaining all of my Dad's attention again, "Elena isn't going anywhere."

Dad's eyes narrow in a threatening way, "Back down, boy. You don't even know who you're dealing with."

"Actually I do," my dumbass of a boyfriend fires back, "John Gilbert of the Founding Family. I've seen pictures of you. In Elena's bedroom."

"Her bedroom," Dad's mouth twitches and I see a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, "Spent some time there, have you?"

"John," Grayson hisses.

Without missing a beat, Damon shrugs, "Actually we prefer mine. My door has a lock."

You sarcastic idiot.

Prideful fucking sarcastic idiot!

"You've got some balls kid," Dad murmurs, then makes some kind of signal with his fingers and suddenly the Family members standing around us are drawing their guns, "Which just might get you killed."

Damon jerks in surprise, and I dive under his arm so that I am once again in front of him; my back is plastered to his chest, "Dad, don't!"

"John, you're at a school, for god's sake," Grayson stretches out an arm to block me, "Put the guns away."

"Not until this kid learns some manners."

Grayson shakes his head, "This kid is the son of the local MC's president. You take him out and you're gonna have a whole different kind of hurt on your hands. Do you really want to have to deal with that and the Kings?"

Dad considers his words, and I send up a prayer that he'll actually listen to them.

Instead, he seems to just get more angry.

"The Kings wouldn't be a problem if those pictures hadn't been posted. Of her with him," he jabs a finger in Damon's direction, "I send her here to you, and you let her slut it up with another club?"

"And you had her so involved in yours that she killed a man! At least here, she's safe. Happy. Living a normal life, as she always should have been!"

John laughs coldly, "Don't act as if you care now, brother. We both know that you wouldn't have given a damn if I hadn't of told you the truth about her mother. You didn't give a single shit about her life before then, did you?"

Grayson pales and Damon flinches behind me.

I frown, "What about Mom?"

Dad's gaze flickers to me, as if just remembering that I am standing here, then looks back to his brother.

"Nothing."

The abruptness of the shutdown is familiar.

Not your club, not your place to ask questions, not your concern.

To hell with that.

This is my life!

"Tell me!" I demand, taking a step forward, "What are you talking about? What truth?"

Surprisingly, it's Grayson who answers, turning away from my Dad, to face me, "Elena, let it go. It doesn't matter right now."

"Guess that means you didn't run the test after all," Dad jibes, "What's wrong? Worried you'd lose your obligation to help her if it was false? Or that Miranda might kick her out anyway if it were true?"

Grayson glares at him with a seething hatred and fear spins my stomach into knots.

"What are you talking about?" I ask again, and Grayson closes his eyes, a look of pain in his expression.

John just stares at him, almost as if he's amused by the situation.

"Someone say something!" I exclaim in frustration.

"Tell her."


It's not Dad or Grayson who mutters the words, but Damon.

My head whips around to see him staring at the men, an odd resolve on his face.

Grayson's eyes open, and their gazes meet.

"Tell her," Damon repeats, "Or I will."

Fright and confusion are tearing at me as Grayson sighs, and offers my father a final glare before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling something out of it.

A picture, I realize when he hands it over, folded in half.

I straighten the thing out and look at the image.

Uncle Grayson, years ago when he was little older than a teenager, leaning against some vintage bike with his arms wrapped around a girl that wasn't Miranda...in fact…

"She looks like me," I whisper, then clear my throat so I can say louder, "Who is this? Why does she look like me?"

"Because she's your mother," Grayson says with a short exhale, "Her name was Katherine."

My mouth opens, then closes, "That's...how is that possible? Isobel-

"Didn't give give birth to you," Dad answers slowly, but at least the amusement has left his expression, "We took you in, when Katherine passed away after you were born."

A headache splits apart my temples as I try to make sense of his words, "Wait...what are you even saying? That I...I'm adopted?"

"In a manner of speaking," John reasons, "But that's not important. Elena, we raised you. We loved you. Isobel and I...we are your parents. No matter your DNA."

His words bring forth another realization, "You're not my father."


Spinning. God, everything's spinning, and I feel as if I'm going to throw up.

The picture flips from my fingers and falls.

Damon's arms come around me as my knees buckle, keeping me from hitting the ground with it, and Grayson is there, murmuring to me, "Breathe. Elena, breathe."

I stare into his eyes, gunmetal grey eyes, and feel like an idiot.

"You said I reminded you of my mother," my lips tremble with the accusation, "You weren't talking about Isobel."

"No," he admits, and has the decency to look ashamed, "I wasn't."

His words from before, when he and John were fighting, echo in my brain, along with a million other hints I feel like I should have picked up on.

"She is my place; my business! And you know damn well why!"

"You're my father?" My eyes sting as tears burn out of them, but Grayson doesn't turn away.

He swallows hard, then says, "I don't know. Katherine...she wasn't exactly exclusive. She was with me...and John, for a time."

My mouth drops open again, "Oh god...that's what he told you...that's why you let me come here? You thought I might be your daughter."

The truth is in his eyes and it hurts more than anything else I've learned.


It's not fucking fair.

I finally get the family I'd always wished I had, and it's all been a lie.

Every single moment.

It wasn't pity that had driven Grayson to open his home to me, it was guilt; guilt that he might have abandoned his child.

And if it wasn't for that slight possibility, no doubt he would have told my father to go to hell when he'd made the request.

No. Not my father. John. John Gilbert, president of the Founding Family MC and possibly not my father at all.

And my mother wasn't actually my mother either.

Everything I've ever believed is a lie.


There's a slight pressure on my waist, Damon's hand, and my eyes fall to where he's holding me up.

His palm is warm; so warm I can feel it through the dress, and the heat breaks my thoughts into a spur of outrage.

"You knew," I accuse forcefully, turning on him, "You knew the truth?"

He must have. He was the one who threatened to tell me.

"I found that picture in Grayson's office," he confesses, "When we went for your appointment."

At this point, I'm pretty sure ripping my heart out and dropping it onto the ground would be less painful than the abuse it's taking tonight.

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"I promised Grayson I'd let him be the one to do it," Damon doesn't flinch as I shove away from him, finding my feet again.

"And how long were you going to give him to do that?" I snap, then turn to my...Uncle? Possible father? Oh god.

"When were you planning on telling me? Or you, for that matter?" I glare at John, "You've known for eighteen years! You didn't think I was privy to that information?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but I'm finished.

I'm so fucking finished.

"Save it," I cut him off, "All of you. I'm done."


Picking up my dress, I turn away from them, all the men I'd ever loved in my life, and run.

My name is yelled, several times, and maybe someone tries to stop me, but I don't slow to find out.

My shoes fall off half way across the parking lot and I run harder, until everything around me is a blur and I feel the way I do when I'm on the bike with Damon.

Like nothing can touch me.

Like I'm leaving everything bad behind.

Like if I just push a little harder, go a little faster...I'll be free.


Sooo a ton of things were going on in this chapter! Will try to get the next one out faster :) Thanks for reading!