Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.
SAMCRO's behemoth VP sat stoically in a chair. His red-rimmed eyes were focused, yet unseeing and if he heard the whispered chatter of his companions or the flurry of activity around the Nurses' Station directly opposite, he didn't acknowledge it. SAMCRO's crazy-eyed SAA, however, was dangerously close to getting tossed out of the surgical unit's waiting room. His brothers were doing what they could to calm him down, but he continued his frenetic pacing back and forth as he ranted and raved about burning St. Thomas to the ground. He was making a lot of the medical personnel extremely nervous, but those closest to him knew that while Opie Winston wallowed silently in his grief, Tig Trager had his barely contained under the mask of fury and rage.
To Opie it seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had been only months since the members of the mother charter had gathered in this very room and in grim silence held vigil for their fallen brother. Now, as he sat as unmovable and rigid as stone, there was only one thought running through his mind.
I first met Fawn in this very hospital. Please God, don't make me say goodbye to her here too. I can't. Not again.
Opie felt, but didn't acknowledge the person who sat down next to him, or the small hand they gently placed on his knee. Instead, his mind was bent on torturing him by replaying the horror show that had greeted him at the end of his mad dash to the salon, only to get there too damn late.
It was the middle of the week and getting late, but the Clubhouse was packed to almost capacity as usual. Although the smallest of all SOA charters, the Redwood Original boasted an impressive roster of members from all walks of life. Most were blue collar and, at one time or another, had their run-ins with the law, but not all had served hard time and not all participated in gun-running. Some had old ladies and families, while others had ex-wives and children they saw only on special occasions, and there were even those that had no families at all, except for SAMCRO. What they all did have in common, however, was a love of Harleys, the freedom to live life as they saw fit, and brotherhood and not necessarily in that order either.
After a day spent working with Tig and Chibs at the warehouse, the SAMCRO VP had decided to unwind by enjoying the camaraderie of his brothers. He was playing a game of pool with Clay while he waited for word from his old lady calling it a night. Fawn had taken to leaving her car parked outside the salon on most nights, opting instead to ride home with him. Opie smiled to himself as he realized that, lately, "home" to Fawn meant his house, not hers. Since getting her crow, Fawn had yet to spend a night at her place, usually crashing with Opie in his dorm or at the Winstons'. Although they had yet to acknowledge to each other that they were actually cohabitating, the fact that he usually woke up nowadays with the pony she insisted was a dog licking his face confirmed that they were indeed evolving into a family.
Apparently, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. What had started out as a friendly and impromptu game had quickly evolved into Opie losing almost all of the money in his pocket. Clay, a lifelong pool shark, had all but retired the mantle to his daughter once his arthritis had worsened. It now amazed Opie to see that the old biker had not only managed to regain the dexterity of his hands after the surgery, but had regained his skill with a pool cue as well. Clay had been playing pretty solidly all night as he hustled a number of brothers stupidly willing to take him on, only to fail miserably. That is, until Opie decided to hustle the Hustler by allowing the Prospect to join the game.
Now, the VP couldn't help but smirk with pride as Harry took his seventh shot since opening with the break. His son was sinking shots like a pro, his last one taking out two balls in both the side right and corner pockets.
"Damn, shithead! You been practicing?" Clay snarked as he leaned against his pool cue and watched Harry line up his next shot.
The young man looked up with a wry grin as he shrugged a shoulder. "Hey, Aunt Jo can teach more than just math, you know. She may have shown me one or two of her moves." He grinned in appreciation as Darcy, one of the Club's sweetbutts, propped her plump ass sporting Daisy Dukes on the corner of the pool table. With a look that promised a whole lot of sin to go along with that body, she held out a bottle of cold beer for the young man. Harry cocked a questioning glance at his old man.
"What the fuck you looking at me for, Prospect?" Opie responded gruffly. "You waiting on my permission?"
"Uh, hell no, Pop. Just wanna make sure you ain't gonna rat my ass out to Fawn." Harry took the proffered beer from Darcy with a wink. "It's just one beer and, besides, I need this shit. Whipping two old biker geezers at pool is thirsty work." He had just brought the bottle to his lips when his father's prepay went off in his kutte. "Damn, I betcha that's her, too. Talk about a sixth sense." Harry snarked before swallowing a couple of healthy gulps of the icy beer.
However, the young Prospect's eyes widened as he noted the sudden fear-tinged rage that flashed across his father's face as he read the message on his phone. "Shit! The salon's being hit."
Opie's loud pronouncement brought a halt to all conversations in the Main Room as patches, hang-arounds, and prospects alike realized that something was seriously wrong.
"How could that be?" Harry questioned as he set his pool cue down. "Ain't Fawn over there now?"
His question went unanswered as everyone heard the pounding of steel-toed boots on the Club's hardwood floor as the SAA hit the Main Room running. "Gear up, brothers!" Tig hollered. "We gotta head over to my kid's shop now!"
Hearing the commotion, Jax exited the Chapel, Bobby and Big Otto trailing after him, only to see his VP leading a sea of leather towards the Clubhouse exit.
"Fawn's place is being hit right now!" Clay bellowed. "And last anyone's heard, she's still down there." With that, the entire Club emptied out into the parking lot as everyone ran for their bikes.
As they tore out of the lot and down the street, Opie felt his heart pounding in his chest. He tried convincing himself that his old lady was alright, that someone had tripped the alarm by mistake, but his gut told him he was lying to himself. As soon as he had received the automated text message from the security company, Opie had tried calling her cell phone twice with no answer. Fawn had another late-night session planned with Tina and Ellie, but they were still on their way back from Stockton.
Coming to a stop in front of the salon, Opie's face tightened into a grimace as he spotted two police cruisers just pulling in from the opposite direction. Other than the four deputy sheriffs that jumped out of their cars—two heading towards the salon and two running across the street—there was no other activity on the street. The front doors looked secure but all the lights inside were out, which he found a little strange.
Maybe Big Red closed up early, Opie thought hopefully. She probably called it a night and headed home without telling me, he tried reasoning with himself, especially since her car wasn't parked out front.
Opie had almost convinced himself of the possibility until Tig dashed his false hope away.
"Shit, bro! Look across the street!" Tig yelled as he pulled his bike parallel to Opie's. Letting his eyes follow to where Tig directed, Opie's brow furrowed further as he saw two officers peering through the completely smashed in storefront of one of the shops across the street. "Something's wrong, VP!" Tig called out over the roar of the bikes arriving on the scene. "Fawnzy still here? I don't see her car."
It was possible that anyone stupid enough to break into the salon again might still be on the scene, but not for long with all the racket now blaring on Main Street.
"Take some brothers and head around the back from the other end of the street. We'll box these fuckers in." Opie ordered as he gunned his motor.
"Hell yeah!" Tig called out and cut loose with a war whoop as he revved his bike.
Signaling to several patches to follow, Tig gunned it down the block, bypassing the police cruisers, and hung a left. They quickly streaked by the two officers that were ordering them to stop. Paying no attention, Opie backtracked up the block the way he had come to head around to the alleyway with Jax, Big Otto, Bobby, and Tiki following close behind. As Opie approached the salon's back door located in the middle of the block, he felt his heart jump into his throat as he saw the door standing agape and a mess of shattered glass.
"Shit!" Jax hissed as he jumped off of his bike and pulled his Glock from the shoulder harness under his kutte in one smooth motion. "Everybody arm up!" He ordered, but his best friend had already pulled out his Sig Sauer P229 and was heading through the door.
Pressed up against the side of the wall, Opie reached over to slap a hand on the master set of switches, flooding the darkened salon with light.
"Damn it." He growled under his breath. He could hear the sound of running water coming from the shampoo area but, aside from a couple of broken vases, Opie didn't see any other damage.
Suddenly, Opie and his brothers stopped all movement as they heard an authoritative voice. "Stand down!" Deputy Sheriff Mitchell Caine ordered as he and four deputies entered the salon behind SAMCRO with their own weapons drawn. The Sanwa Sheriffs quickly found themselves outnumbered two-to-one, however, as Tig and his small crew also entered through the back door. "What the fuck you think you're doing?!" Caine yelled as he and his officers found themselves staring down the barrels of ten huge hand cannons. "This is a crime scene and you are ordered to stand down right now!"
"Fuck you, asshole! This is my kid's shop, so YOU stand the fuck down!" Tig ordered as he shoved his way past Caine.
"You will let us do our jobs or I'll have all your asses locked up for obstruction." The young officer threatened confidently. "The last thing anyone needs is a bunch of so-called vigilante heroes compromising a potential crime scene. So are we gonna waste time pissing on each other's shoes or are you gonna let us investigate, maybe catch some perps?"
Seeing that Tig was itching to pull the trigger and that Opie was about to explode, Jax cut in. "It's a'ight, brothers. Stand down." He ordered his Club and then turned to Caine. "We're pulling back, but be quick about this shit. We just want to make sure that all of our women are safe. We haven't heard from Fawn and she was supposed to be working late tonight."
"Fine." Caine replied brusquely and then turned to face his deputies. "Martinez, take Tyler upstairs and do a thorough sweep. Polaski and Jones, check out the rest of the first floor." He then looked at Jax, Tig and Opie. "You three can stay, but the rest of your crew has to wait outside. Now."
Opie glared at the man, but nodded his consent and watched as his brothers slowly exited the salon.
Even now, the salon was eerily quiet and a sense of unease settled over Opie like a blanket. Where the fuck can she be? He thought and pulled out his phone to call Fawn yet again. He had just pressed her number on the speed dial when one of the officers came flying back down the stairs. The blond young deputy was deathly pale as he darted over to his commanding officer.
"Sir," Tyler started, slightly out of breath. "We need an ambulance. There's a woman upstairs and she's hurt bad—"
With a roar, the young man found himself tackled to the ground as Opie lunged for the stairs, taking them three at a time as Tig and Jax ran right behind him.
As he bounded up the final steps, Opie whirled his head around in a panic before his eyes finally focused on the other officer crouched over a body on the floor. Opie couldn't remember making it over to that end of the salon and only later would he recall tackling Deputy Martinez, sending him airborne before slamming into the marble floor.
Falling to his knees over the crumpled heap on the floor, Opie felt something break inside of him. Barely recognizable if not for her flaming red hair, his old lady was lying in a pool of her own blood coming from an ugly gash on the side of her head. She was pale, her shirt practically ripped from her and her beautiful long limbs twisted in a macabre pose, her right arm in particular bent at an odd angle. Opie felt the keening wails rip open from his chest as he threw his long body down next to her, pulling her battered and broken body into his arms as he rocked and wailed with grief.
It had taken Jax, Tig and two officers to pull Opie off of her body as his best friend desperately tried to get him to understand that Fawn was still alive.
Now, as the slow-simmering rage in his heart burned a hole in his chest, Opie vaguely heard the sound of a woman crying softly. Finally allowing himself to focus on his surroundings, he saw a weeping Tina gently rocking Ellie in her arms as she tried to comfort his daughter while struggling with her own grief. Ellie, her head on Tina's bosom, was crying silent tears as her brother, more Opie's twin than hers, sat next to them, his cold stone face betraying none of his own fear.
Suddenly, Opie felt someone tugging on his hands. Looking down, he watched as Jolene Teller gently removed his leather gloves—gloves that were covered with his old lady's blood. Before he could stop himself, Opie let out a sob that ripped itself out of his chest. He gritted his teeth as he fought to hold onto his shit.
Placing the gloves on the chair next to her, Jolene gripped one of Opie's large hands with both of her own. "Just hold on, Sasquatch." She whispered, her voice suddenly cracking with emotion. "Please hold on."
Dear God, we can't lose her now.
Nearly two hours had passed since Fawn had been brought by ambulance to St. Thomas and her father's patience had long since evaporated as he waited for word on her condition.
Living the life he had willingly chosen, Tig had seen his share of blood and mayhem. Fuck, he has caused much of it his own damn self, but he had been hardened by the Life and no amount of pain and suffering had an affect on him anymore. Or so he had thought. Nothing Tig had ever done or seen before could have ever prepared him for the sight of his youngest daughter's beaten and battered body lying in a pool of her own blood.
Although he had come close to losing Fawnzy once before when she had overdosed at seventeen, the first time Tig had seen her had been after the doctors had saved her life. Fawn had looked pale, skinny and strung out then, but there was no doubt that she was alive. Seeing her for the first time after the attack, however, lying on the floor of the nail salon had shattered Tig because like Opie he was convinced she was dead and once again he had been unable to stop it from happening.
Tig had barely climbed out of the black hole he had fallen into four years ago after Donna Winston's death. Watching Opie's devastation as he keened over Fawn's broken body had taken the SAA back to that horrible day at the Taste of Charming festival. Even now, as Tig tried to funnel his own grief through a tough outer layer, he was bordering on completely losing his grip on reality. He knew he wouldn't be able to see his brother through another loss, not when it was this close to home.
For the first time in a long time, Tig felt not only helpless, but hopeless. Having learned the hard way through his years of service in the Marines and the Sons that such emotions could get him killed, Tig Trager had only one way of dealing with those feelings. He needed to hurt someone. That was why it was of no little surprise that the SAA now found himself sitting quietly in the waiting room. His rage was still coiled tight in the pit of his stomach, but it was something of a shock to his brothers how in control he was.
Tina Giamatti is some kind of woman, Clay thought as he watched the couple. With her slim arm looped through Tig's, Tina leaned into him, her chin resting on his shoulder as she whispered comfort into his ear.
Tig had been on fire. Unable to contain his shit, scared for his baby, all he could see in his mind's eye was Fawn's pale-as-death face as the EMTs worked to stabilize her as he terrorized the overworked staff of the surgical unit.
"What the fuck is going on?!" He had raged at one of the nurses behind the station, who looked as if in fear of her life as the crazy with grief man loomed over her.
It was then that Tina had stepped in. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder to gently pull him to face her and, reaching around his waist, she embraced him gently. Frozen at first and unwilling to accept her comfort and affection, Tig finally caved as he slowly wrapped his arms around Tina, tucking the smaller woman tightly to him as her head snuggled underneath his chin, his body trembled with sobs that he would not allow to escape.
It was suddenly quiet in the hallways as his brothers and their families, who had spilled out into the corridors at the sound of a commotion, watched with something akin to awe as the woman quieted the fierce outlaw biker, something that no one else had been able to do.
Pulling slowly out of his embrace, Tina grabbed his hand and gently guided him inside to the far corner of the waiting room, gesturing for a couple of patches to rise so that they could sit down. Pushing Tig down onto a small sofa, Tina waved a hand to Bobby, and Clay watched as she whispered in the shaggy-haired man's ear before he turned away as Tina took a seat next to his brother. A short time later, Bobby returned with a couple of cups of hot coffee, one of which he passed to Tig and which he took without comment, except to offer a nod of thanks.
"It's been an awfully long time, Clay." Gemma said in a quiet, yet anxious tone. "We should have heard something by now."
"I know, baby." Clay replied as he squeezed his old lady's hand. "Hopefully we'll hear something soon."
As if someone had heard his wish, a tall woman wearing a pair of green scrubs walked into the waiting room and headed towards the SAA. Dr. Lauren Shay was new to St. Thomas as well as Charming, having only been in town for a couple of months. Only becoming aware of the local MC after she had accepted the hospital's offer, Dr. Shay raised an eyebrow as she took in the army of leather that quickly crowded around her, obviously anxious to hear her report.
"Mr. Trager?" She asked quietly as her eyes darted among the crowd.
Tig leaped to his feet. "Yeah, that's me, Doc." Tig replied. In the corner, Opie did the same and strode over to face the doctor. "What's going on with my kid?"
"Fawn is in the ICU. At the moment, she's in critical, but stable condition." The young doctor answered.
She's alive, thank God, Opie felt the vise that had held his heart in a tight grip loosen with a little relief.
"What's the damage?" Opie demanded.
Turning to face the giant biker, Dr. Shay's eyes widened. "And you are?" She asked.
"He's her old man." Tig quickly vouched for Opie. "Please, Doc, what are we dealing with here?"
Looking around at all the stony faces waiting for her response, the doctor turned her attention back to Tig. "If you prefer, we can discuss this in private—"
"No, damn it! This is her family." Tig raged as he clenched his fists. "Just tell us."
Dr. Shay didn't know the circumstances by which Fawn Trager had come by her injuries. Looking around the assembled group of rough looking bikers, she reasoned with herself that the possibility existed that the person responsible could be among them. Not noticing any telltale outward injuries on any of the men surrounding her, Dr. Shay took a deep breath and started, "Your daughter was the victim of a particularly brutal assault, Mr. Trager, but she put up one hell of a fight. She has a number of broken fingernails and quite a bit of blood on her that wasn't her own. Whoever her attacker was, I'm sure he's in need of medical attention himself."
Tig nodded proudly. "That's my girl."
"Your daughter has three broken ribs, two on the left and one on the right side. Her right wrist is also broken and she suffered a significant amount of contusions and bruises." Dr. Shay explained, hesitated and then continued. "Since Fawn was unconscious when she arrived we were unable to question her, but there were indicators present that could have been the result of a sexual assault—"
"What?!" Opie roared. "You think she was raped?" He managed to ask without the tears welling in his eyes running down his cheeks.
"No—I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." Dr. Shay started.
Taking a deep breath, Opie replied, "Opie Winston."
"Mr. Winston, I can assure you we have ruled that possibility out. Like I said, she fought tooth and nail." The doctor said reassuringly. "Right now, our main concern is with her head injury. Ms. Trager was struck with a large blunt instrument on the side of her head, which caused her to bleed into her brain. Although the bleeding has stopped, she has a subdural hematoma, a large blood clot, and as a result is comatose." Dr. Shay advised as the crowd murmured in shock. "This is not unusual for the kind of injury she suffered, but we will continue to monitor her situation and hope that she will regain consciousness on her own."
Jax placed a comforting hand on Opie's shoulder. "How long will that take?" He asked.
"As you can imagine, it's hard to predict, but considering that the bleeding has stopped on its own so quickly gives us hope that her brain is healing itself. It could be hours, a couple of days or even weeks."
"What if the blood clot doesn't heal itself?" Jolene asked with trepidation.
The doctor sighed. "Then we'll have to go in and relieve the pressure."
"You mean you gonna drill a hole in her fuckin' skull?" Tig asked in shock.
"That's the worst case scenario, Mr. Trager. Right now, she's stable and getting the best care we have." Dr. Shay assured him as she put her hand on Tig's arm. "I'm anxious for your daughter to wake up too, so she can identify the bastard who did this to her. Whoever it was needs to be caught and put away. That animal needs to pay for what he did to her."
"No need to worry, Doc," Opie replied grimly. "He will."
The life of an MC President wasn't easy. Having to be strong for his brothers could be difficult at times. After all, they were family and what affected one, affected all. When shit happened, however, Jax Teller had always reasoned that as outlaws they had to accept the hand that was dealt to them. They had to accept the good as well as the bad because they had each made the conscious choice to live their lives on the fringes of society. But when it came to their women, the bad was always a lot harder to accept. Although it was up to each old lady to either support her old man or not, most always did because of love. While Jax couldn't imagine his life without Jolene, there had been times when his old lady had bore the brunt of decisions made by the Club that had him wishing he were strong enough to let her go, if only because he loved her so much.
In this instance, however, it was likely that Fawn's own past had reared its ugly head. With this new set of circumstances and with his VP and SAA out of commission for the time being, Jax was trying to do the best he could to keep Fawn and the Club out of the Sheriff's crosshairs as he faced off against the angry lawman. The sun had risen, bringing with it a brand new day, but nothing new as to who was responsible for the attack on one of SAMCRO's own. The new day had also brought along with it just one of the many headaches Jax would have to deal with before this whole situation was over. Sheriff Roosevelt was angry and demanding answers, which Jax would never be in a position to provide. With the exception of the Club's close relationship with the now-retired former Chief of Charming PD Wayne Unser, the Club never sought help from or cooperated with any form of law enforcement. They weren't about to start now. They could handle their own shit.
"So you're telling me that you have no fuckin' clue as to identity of the perps," Roosevelt demanded, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he and two other sheriffs coldly eyed SAMCRO's President outside the surgical unit waiting room. "Even though it's obvious they have a hard-on for a business with ties to your Club."
"Yeah, that's what I'm telling ya." Jax replied irritably. "Since when is the Sheriffs Department so eager to work with SAMCRO? Because if you're trying to deputize me, I'm not interested. I'm not a fuckin' investigator and I don't know shit about CSI."
Somehow I find that rather unlikely, Roosevelt thought as he eyed the alpha male.
Jax Teller was standing with his feet shoulder-width apart, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans near his SAMCRO belt buckle. The look in his intense blue eyes betrayed nothing as he contemplated the opposition. As far as the Club was concerned, Roosevelt knew he was and would always be the enemy.
Over the years, the Sheriff had not come any closer to understanding the Sons of Anarchy. Eli had put all of the knowledge he had culled during his years on the Oakland Gang Task Force to bear on the biker outlaws and had little to no success in breaking the Club. Either SAMCRO wasn't the threat that people like Mayor Jacob Hale claimed they were or the Club had mastered covering their tracks during their forty-plus years of existence.
Eli knew the latter to be true, but so far had been unable to crack the code that bound these men together. At the very least, all he could really say about the situation was that of all the cities in Sanwa County, Charming had very little by way of crime. What little the town experienced from time to time was minor in nature, more to do with bored teenagers cruising up and down the streets and causing trouble on a Saturday night.
Violent crime in Charming was virtually nonexistent and in spite of how much Mayor Hale wished to credit local law enforcement for the low crime rate, Eli knew that the Sons had policed their hometown quite efficiently, tackling quality of life issues and keeping major crime outside its borders. SAMCRO actually left very little policing for the Sheriffs Department to do. As a result, Roosevelt and his men spent most of their time when not writing parking tickets on Main Street, responding to calls for help and investigating crime in the towns of Modesto, Pope and Lodi.
Bad news travels in a small town like shit down a toilet—quick and fast. It was no surprise that the recent attacks on local businesses, with the latest one resulting in the hospitalization and serious condition of one of its residents, was big news in Charming. Even though barely a week had passed since the first incident, Roosevelt already had Mayor Hale breathing down his neck, unable to understand why his officers had yet to make any arrests.
After this second and more violent attack on the salon, Eli had stood outside Stems and Bulbs this morning as the Mayor ripped him a new one, all for the benefit of the news media that had congregated on Main Street overnight. The pressure was on full throttle as Hale tasked him with finding a connection between the attacks and SAMCRO. According to the Mayor, it was the ultimate opportunity to drive the final nail into the coffin of the MC, whose lifestyle he considered outdated, a throwback to the 1960s counterculture which no longer fit the image of the town that was on the verge of a renaissance.
Spending most of the night before at the crime scene, Eli had barely snagged a couple hours of sleep before he was already on the job again and taking lead on the case from Deputy Mitchell Caine. The first attack on Fawn Trager's salon had been serious enough, but with the young woman now in a coma and his wife's own business in virtual ruins, this had become a personal matter for Sheriff Roosevelt.
Just like it was for SAMCRO, he pondered.
As a lawman, it wasn't always easy to stay detached and unaffected by some of the shit he was exposed to. That was a skill that was acquired over time, but when that shit hits this close to home Eli could bring himself to sympathize with SAMCRO. After all, even though the damage to Rita's shop had been substantial—all windows and the refrigerated display cases destroyed beyond repair—his wife was healthy and whole and at this very moment probably cursing up a storm as she tackled clean-up.
Jax Teller, Opie Winston, and Tig Trager might find it hard to believe, but Eli had a vested interest in finding the pieces of shit that had brought this sort of horror to their town. The Sheriff actually liked the feisty young redhead and what happened to her had struck a raw nerve with him, especially as he investigated the crime scene. It was obvious that Fawn Trager had fought for her life and had caused no little damage to her attacker. Eli was actually looking forward to getting his hands on the dirt bag. Although he would make sure that justice was served by seeing this man stand trial and punished accordingly, it wasn't uncommon for perps to get quite "clumsy" while in police custody. Many an "alleged" criminal suddenly developed the habit of "falling" and hurting "themselves" by "accident".
"No need to worry, Mr. Teller. In spite of your MC's do-good reputation among some of the residents of Charming, I don't think there's any reasonable way to justify deputizing a bunch of lawless gun runners. The Mayor would have my badge within the hour." Eli retorted.
"Ah, so there always is a bright side to every situation." Jax replied cheekily.
Eli gave him a tight smile. "Although I am not interested in having you do my job for me, I would appreciate your cooperation in the investigation." The Sheriff explained. "Any information, no matter how small or insignificant, can help us. What happened to Ms. Trager cannot go unpunished—"
"And I have great faith that it won't." Jax said noncommittally.
"I'm sure you do." Roosevelt replied knowingly. "You've probably heard by now that my wife's shop was also hit last night."
"I did, and I was very sorry to hear that." Jax said sincerely.
"Thanks." Sheriff Roosevelt nodded at the younger man. "I'm sure you can appreciate my concern when I say that I want to find Ms. Trager's attacker before something like this happens again."
"I can, but at this point, you probably know more than I or anyone else in my Club does." Jax lied convincingly. "I can't help you, Sheriff, especially since my main concern right now is for my brother and his old lady. I'm afraid you're going to have to do your job all on your own."
"Oh, I don't have a problem with that at all, Mr. Teller." Roosevelt replied tersely, his dark brown eyes boring holes into Jax's blue ones. "As a matter of fact, that's just how I prefer it, but do let me make one thing clear for you. My duty is to protect the citizens of Charming and I am not about to let the shit that went down in this town four years ago happen on my watch. Innocent people were hurt because of your Club and once again one of your women is paying the price. If SAMCRO had anything to do with what happened to Ms. Trager and to my wife's shop, I'll be coming after your Club and anyone who had a hand in this clusterfuck, and you can bet sure 'nuff that my word is as good as gold on that." Roosevelt said ominously before he turned on his heel and left, his officers following behind him.
Stopping at the elevator bank, Eli addressed his deputies without facing them in case Teller was still watching. "I want you two to stay here and patrol the floor. I'll have someone relieve you when your shift is over. The moment Fawn Trager regains consciousness I want to know about it. Understand?"
"Yes, sir." The two officers replied in unison.
The Sheriff believed in following up on hunches. In the past, his instincts had often served him well, but right now, he was at war with those very instincts. With the Mayor spilling nothing but shit in his ear about the Club, Roosevelt knew he was being pressured to put the blame on the MC for the attack last night. His experience working with the Gang Task Force, however, had taught Eli that it was possible for certain criminal organizations to operate honorably in some respects. With SAMCRO, he would say that the Club had good intentions when it came to the town, and after what had gone down over four years ago, it was highly unlikely that they would allow shit like that happen again.
As he exited the hospital and made his way to his squad car, Eli's eyes narrowed as he reconsidered carefully what his wife had shared with him several days ago. It was possible that there was another reason entirely that could explain the attacks. The only way to know for sure was to completely and objectively investigate all possible leads and clues. At that, he reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out the business card his wife had given him. Sliding into his squad car, Eli was frustrated to realize that he was letting Mayor Hale's own bias against the Sons of Anarchy taint his investigation.
"It seems that Jax Teller's right. I do have some cop shit to do." Eli said sardonically to no one in particular as he shoved the card back into his pocket before pulling out of the hospital's parking lot on a course back to the station house.
It was late afternoon when the third floor waiting room at St. Thomas nearly turned into a war zone.
The day was bright and clear despite the grim atmosphere that had settled over those still gathered in the waiting room. Both Opie and Tig sat together silently, neither having much to say. Earlier that morning, they had met with Dr. Shay for an update on Fawn's condition. Although the blood clot had not increased in size, the swelling of her brain had not yet subsided and she was still unconscious. For the most part, her condition had remained stable, but unchanged during the long night.
Having spent most of the day taking turns with his immediate family and his brothers so that everyone who wanted to spend a few minutes with Fawn got the chance, Opie was feeling and looked beaten down emotionally. He was having a tough time reconciling himself with the battered condition of his old lady. He couldn't get the image out of his head and the only thing that kept him going was knowing that she was still alive, that her heart was still beating and that she was a fighter. God knows he had gone a number of rounds with her—too many to count. Opie also knew how much they loved each other and that Fawn wouldn't give up on him.
But seeing her for the first time had nearly broken him. Fawn was a tall and voluptuous woman with beautiful curves for miles, yet she had looked so small and fragile stretched out on the hospital bed in the semi-darkened room that Opie had almost lost it. Her face, not her normally peaches and cream complexion, was sallow and pale with angry black and blue bruising marring her delicate features. Her bottom lip, which had been split open, was puffy with stitches and her left eye was still swollen shut. Opie couldn't see much of her hair as her head was wrapped in bandages, but the nurse had assured him that she still had most of it. Only the underside above her right ear had been shaved so that they could clean her wounds and assess the damage.
When Big Red wakes up, she's gonna be pissed, Opie had smiled to himself as he gently caressed her face, doing his best to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that countered with if she wakes up.
Trying his best to suppress negative thoughts as he held her hand in his, Opie couldn't hold back any longer. Out of the view of his brothers, he finally allowed his silent tears to fall as Tig bent over to gently kiss his daughter on the forehead.
"You gonna be okay, Fawnzy. Anybody who gave that shithead a good fight ain't gonna stay down for long. And I promise ya, whoever this fucker is, he's gonna get his." Tig said softly as he swiped the tears off his face. "I promise ya."
But Fawn didn't answer. She couldn't and both men, after their 15 minutes were up, did the best to remove the vestiges of their grief before exiting the room to allow others to take their turn visiting with Fawn.
"Opie?"
The VP lifted his head to face Tina's concerned one. Fawn's surrogate mother had spent the night at the hospital, refusing to leave her side. In the morning, using her cell phone and iPad, Tina had worked in the hospital's chapel to plot and coordinate with Lexie their next move regarding the salon. Not only did it keep her mind occupied, but Tina knew that Fawn's first concern when she came to would be the salon. Tina wanted to be able to give her friend some good news, and even though Lexie had fought her tooth and nail to stay by Fawn's side, she finally caved, insisting that she would be back later in the day.
Momma T has a knack for getting her way, Opie had thought as he absently watched her bully Lexie into going home the night before for some rest.
Now, it looked as if Tina was setting her sight on Opie and Tig, who were sitting silently in the waiting room with their brothers, as she approached them with Jolene in tow. It was still strange for Opie to see both women side by side and it was quite unnerving to have two sets of identical seafoam green eyes fixed on him with determination.
"Yeah, Momma T?" Opie replied.
Hearing the fatigue in his voice, both women sighed simultaneously.
"I think it's time you and Tig went to the Club." Tina's tone brooked no argument. "The two of you aren't doing anybody a damn bit of good staying here and exhausting yourself. Isn't that right, Jolene?"
"Absolutely." The SAMCRO Queen replied evenly. "Ratboy is waiting outside with the cargo van to take both of you back to the lot. Bobby has a big pot of chili on the stove ready for you to eat. You two desperately need something in your stomach besides stale coffee, a shower and a couple of hours sleep. After you do all that, then you can come back. I promise we'll call you the moment Fawn wakes up." Jolene urged.
"I ain't leaving her." Opie said quietly and his brother nodded his agreement.
"I ain't that hungry anyway." Tig replied tiredly. However, the sudden rumbling of his stomach belied his response.
"Oh, really?" Tina said a slight smile on her face. "Somebody needs to tell that to your tummy."
"And what about you, Doll? You've been here just as long as I have." The SAA retorted.
"And as soon as you get back, I'll take my turn. I promise," Tina lied convincingly. "Besides, you really don't want Fawn waking up and seeing you looking like shit, do you?" She asked Opie.
"Maybe you're right." He mumbled.
"Of course I am." Tina counseled. Holding her hands out to both men, she smiled with satisfaction as they both took them and stood up, each bending over to kiss her gently in gratitude for her concern.
Jolene nodded approvingly at her birth mother's manipulation. I couldn't have done a better job myself, she thought in admiration.
"Come on," Jolene chipped in. "I'll walk you downstairs." Looping her arms in between both men, she angled them towards the exit of the waiting room. She was the only one looking up, so when she gasped and stopped short, the two men stopped as well.
Looking down the corridor, Tig frowned as he noted a woman rapidly heading towards them. Slim and tall, wearing a navy blue pants suit, a white blouse with a rounded collar, small gold earrings and a pair of sensible pumps with wide heels, the woman quickly made her way towards the group. The only thing vibrant about her was her dark red hair, which was cut in a short bob with bangs above dark green eyes set in a pale, heart-shaped and angry face.
"Ah shit!" Tig groaned.
"Is that who I think it is?" Jolene said in a near whisper, which apparently wasn't low enough.
"If you mean am I Fawn's mother," Colleen Trager replied angrily. "Then yes, you would be right." And turning to face her old man of over thirty years, the fiery redhead hissed at her estranged husband. "This has your stink all over it, doesn't it, Alex?! You and your goddamned stupid Club!"
Bad shit doesn't just rain down on ya, it fuckin pours, Tig thought as he coldly eyed his former old lady.
He wouldn't wish Colleen Trager on his worst enemy and the last thing Tig wanted or needed was having to deal with the angry woman himself. In the state he was in, Tig couldn't be held responsible if he twisted her head right off in front of God and all these witnesses. That is, if she didn't kill him first, which at the moment seemed highly probable.
The last time he had seen Colleen had been the day he had signed Fawn out of the hospital and took her into his care for a good old fashioned detox before taking her to rehab. His estranged wife had not changed much in 11 years. Although the prim and proper attire was something he wasn't used to, she still had a youthful face. Looking at her like only he knew he could, Tig didn't have a tough time seeing the former sweetbutt he had fallen for when she was 18. Her fiery green eyes looking at him like she wanted to gut him like a fish, however, reminded Tig why once he had gone to Charming, he had stayed gone.
For the past 18-plus hours, Tig had done his best to temper his anger, tension, and worry. After all, it was obvious that his kid was well-loved and it would be unfair to take shit out on those that were agonizing over her well-being just like he was. With all the unresolved resentment between him and Colleen, Tig realized with almost perverted glee that he finally had himself a target he could take a solid shot at.
Just like old fuckin' times.
Opening his mouth, he was about to verbally rip her to shreds when he noted the fear in her eyes, which she was fighting her damnedest to hide. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to pull back a little on his burning retort. There was a time and a place for everything and Tig was sure that he and Colleen would get ample opportunity to sling muddy pot shots at each other later. After he knew his kid would be alright.
"Hi, Coll. Different day, same old shit. Can't say I'm not consistent, huh?"
"Ho oh oh," Colleen snickered bitterly. "You got that right. Nothing ever changes with you. You were always very good at finding a way to bring some new misery into my life, so why should I expect any different from you 30 years down the fuckin' pike?" Colleen replied bitterly before waving him away. "I'm not here to talk to you right now. I'll deal with your ass later. I'm here for my daughter, which I'm sure is probably a surprise since you couldn't even be bothered to pick up a damn phone to tell me that she's at death's fuckin' door!" She stormed as an uncomfortable silence fell over SAMCRO and the hospital staff as they watched the ugly scene unfold. One of the nurses even picked up the phone to call for the hospital's security as the years of anger and resentment spilled forth from Fawn's parents.
Any thought that he should probably cut his old lady some slack pretty much died a quick and painful death at her sniping. "Then what the fuck are you doing here?! It's been months since Fawnzy's heard from you! Why the fuck would you decide to show up now 'sides making my life more of a living hell than it already is?!"
"Maybe because my daughter invited me, asshole!" Colleen shouted. "I was already in Bumfuck, California for the opening of the salon. It took some cop on the street to tell me that Fawn was in the hospital after a brutal attack!"
The SAMCRO Queen decided that it was time for her to step in and try to diffuse the situation. Pulling away from Opie, she slowly approached Colleen, holding out a hand. "I'm sorry that you had to find out about Fawn this way, but I'm sure you'd rather see her now than rip Tig a new one. Why don't I take you to see her?" Jolene offered gently. She knew crazy when she saw it.
Colleen, however, seemed immune to the young woman's solicitous request. With narrowed, distrusting eyes, she sneered. "And who the hell are you?"
"I'm Jolene Teller." She replied calmly. "Fawn is a dear friend and I'm sure she'd be so happy to know that you came to be by her side. Please, let's go see her now and I can fill you in on what's going on."
But Colleen Trager was unwilling to be pacified. Having driven 510 miles from Oregon after the end of a long and busy shift in the emergency room had her worn and irritable. It hadn't helped that a tractor trailer accident on the CA-139 S had forced her to seek refuge for the night in some crappy motel off the highway. Out of sheer exhaustion, Colleen ended up oversleeping and got a late start on the remaining three hour drive to Charming. She had only just arrived in town to discover that, as usual, her rebellious daughter had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fucking fire. Expecting to find Fawn's new business decked out for the grand opening, Colleen had pulled in front of a very attractive building with the entrance blocked off with crime scene tape only to be told by a cop standing outside that the owner was currently in the local hospital.
Colleen's face was grim as she eyed the four individuals facing off against her. Tig was right. She hadn't spoken to Fawn ever since she announced her decision to stay in Charming. Colleen knew her daughter well, however and was pretty sure that her love of doing hair and life in a small town weren't the only reasons she had decided to completely upend her entire life. As she looked at the giant man standing alongside her husband, Colleen knew she was looking at the real reason why.
Shortly after her last conversation with her wayward daughter, Colleen had again reached out to Jackie, one of the old ladies in the SAMTAC charter. This time Colleen refused to take no for an answer and after much hemming and hawing, Jackie had finally spilled the beans on what she had heard about Fawn. Apparently, her beauty and new status in the Club's mother charter had been the subject of the Old Lady Gossip Mill for months. Not at all surprised, Colleen had discovered that her daughter had stupidly allowed herself to get involved with a high-ranking member of SAMCRO, the very same patch that she had warned her to stay away from.
Jackie—now that Colleen had managed to get the woman to open up—had shared a good deal of information about the VP, including what she knew of his history over the last four years. At the time, none of the information had sat well with Colleen. Now, faced with the knowledge of her daughter's recent attack, she knew Fawn had used impaired judgment when she made the decision to move to Charming. If she didn't know better, she'd say Fawn was back on drugs.
"Let me guess," Colleen said, crossing her arms over her chest as she allowed her eyes to look the oversized biker up and down. "You're Opie Winston." She said as if the name left a shitty aftertaste in her mouth.
Opie met the fiery green eyes resolutely. "Yes, I am."
Colleen twisted up her mouth contemptuously. She didn't know shit from chocolate at this point, but she was sure that whatever had happened to Fawn was a direct result of her relationship with this man. Regardless of the fact that he was not only a member but an officer of an MC not to be trifled with, Colleen let Opie have it with both loaded barrels. "One dead old lady wasn't enough for you?! You have to drag my daughter down into an early grave too?!"
Seeing the shocked anger on Jolene and Tig's faces and the painful regret in Opie's eyes, Tina Giamatti came close to losing her shit. Bounding forward she quickly came to the defense of a man she had grown to love like a son.
"Opie is no more responsible for what happened to Fawn than I am." Tina charged. "I understand you're upset and as Fawn's mother you have every right to be, but you really need to step back and calm down."
Colleen turned to face the smaller woman. With her lip curled in disgust, she looked Tina over from head to toe, noting the tight jeans, clingy blouse, and leather jacket over an undeniably shapely and fit body. "And who the fuck are you? No doubt one of my husband's tarts."
Tig opened his mouth to respond, but Tina quickly cut him off. "I don't give a shit who you think I am. All I know is that I'm someone that loves Fawn too much to be causing unnecessary drama right outside the ICU where she's lying in critical condition." Tina said evenly as she looked into the eyes of the woman who used the threat of killing her own children as a bargaining chip against her husband. It didn't matter that Tina herself had been no better as a mother. At least she had learned from her mistakes and been given the chance to reconcile with her daughter. Tina was quickly learning that the Colleen Trager she had heard stories about from both Fawn and her father paled in comparison to this red-haired demon and Fawn deserved better than that.
Although Fawn had brushed off not receiving any response from her mother to the grand opening invitation she had sent, Tina knew that it had deeply hurt the young woman. It had made Tina angry enough to consider flying to Oregon just so she could bitch slap Colleen, hopefully knocking some sense into her during the process. Now, after finally showing up to do right by Fawn, Colleen has taken the worst possible time to make the current situation all about her, too self-centered to see the pain her words were causing Tig and Opie. Had they been anywhere but the hospital, Tina was sure her old cat fighting days would have reemerged, with a vengeance and she would have put the bitch down quick.
Apparently, she and Jolene had more in common than similar looks because her daughter was eyeing Colleen coldly and the sudden twitch in her jaw was clearly an indicator that she was holding herself back from cutting loose on the woman. As much as Jolene loved her SAMCRO family, she could understand a mother's pain and rationalized that Colleen was lashing out because she was genuinely distraught. Whatever issues Colleen had, now was not the time to address them. But no outsider would be allowed to talk shit about any member of her family.
"It might serve you well to put a civil tongue in your head when speaking to my family," Jolene addressed Colleen. "I've been known to lose my shit and I wouldn't want to be responsible for yanking yours out by the roots."
Tina was momentarily stunned and suddenly found her eyes moist with tears as Jolene looked directly at her and nodded her head when she said "my family". It was a small gesture and Tina realized that she was probably reading more into it than Jolene actually meant, but for Tina it symbolized what she hoped was a change in their relationship. In spite of the uncomfortable and painful situation regarding Fawn, Tina couldn't help but be grateful to Colleen for what her outburst had wrought.
The fact that she had spoken up in defense of Tina as well as Opie and Tig seemed to catch Jolene by surprise as well. "Now, do you want to see your daughter or not?" Jolene eyed the woman with a pair of cold dead eyes.
Colleen could see the anger rising like steam from the young woman and was momentarily startled into submission. Jackie had warned her about the old lady that had taken Gemma Teller-Morrow's place as the SAMCRO Queen and it seemed that she had not exaggerated about the woman's temper. She didn't come down to Charming to get her ass beat and as she eyed the young angry woman, she realized the chance of that happening was entirely possible.
Reluctantly, she swallowed back her ire. "Yes. I want to see Fawn." Colleen replied quietly, her voice having lost its strident and combative tone.
Grateful that she had finally gotten through to the angry woman without having to follow through on her threat, Jolene nodded. "Then come this way." She gestured, letting Colleen step in front of her.
"Shit! Tig had said he had a rattlesnake of an old lady, but I didn't think there was a woman alive that dared talk to him like that." Tiki muttered to Juice as they watched Jolene lead Fawn's mother down the hall to ICU, while Tina headed with his brothers towards the elevator.
"Well, seeing is believing." Juice replied. "With a double dose of crazy like that from Tigger and her mom, it's a miracle Fawn isn't mental." He sighed as he rubbed a hand over his Mohawk. "I wonder just how much more shit's coming our way before this is all over."
The younger patched shrugged and, much like his father, made a rather profound statement of wisdom. "The problem with shit is that it never stops coming out of your ass." Tiki replied laconically.
Aside from the days he had married his high school sweetheart Donna and she had given birth to a healthy set of bawling babies, the day his old lady woke up was probably the happiest day of Opie's life.
It had been nearly 72 hours since the attack and trying to remain optimistic for the benefit of his children was wearing him down. Neither Ellie or Harry had returned to school since Fawn had been in the hospital, both insisting on sitting vigil for the woman that had become so much a part of their lives. Opie knew that arriving at the salon just as Fawn was being loaded onto the ambulance had opened old wounds for Ellie, but it was Harry who, in addition to worrying about his father's old lady, was dealing with feelings of guilt. It had been his idea to switch shifts at the salon with Shepherd in order to hang around the Clubhouse to press up on Darcy. Had he been there that night, there was no way Harry would have let Fawn talk him into leaving her alone in the salon.
No amount of reassurances from his father could convince Harry that his guilt was misplaced. The one thing Harry knew for sure, however, was that he wanted to be the first one to get his hands on that chicken shit Shepherd.
Although maybe going to school would have taken their minds off the situation by keeping them occupied during the day, both Opie and Tig were glad to have the company. For Opie, it was somewhat strange and a little amusing to see his kids interact with Tig. Before Fawn had come into their lives, Ellie and Harry's relationship with the SAA had been virtually non-existent. Not only could "ol' crazy eyes" be a little intimidating to small children, but Tig Trager didn't seem like a patch who paid a lot of attention to kids. Unless, of course, they hung around the garage, pestering him with questions about fixing cages as was Maddy Teller's habit. Maddy was probably the only kid—aside from her mother before her—that Tig had ever tolerated following him around.
Nevertheless, Tig's relationship with Opie's kids changed radically after Donna's death. Children seemed to have the ability to see things a lot clearer than their older parents, and neither Ellie or Harry had been willing to blame their father or Tig for what happened to their mother. In fact, in Ellie's mind, Tig and Happy had elevated themselves into hero status when their quick actions had pulled Ellie and a small group of her friends out of the line of fire on that horrible day. Still, they had done their part to stay out of his way.
Now during this crisis, the twins were showing the maturity of children transitioning into young adults as they took to looking after the SAA. Never allowing him to sit all alone when Tina was visiting with Fawn, Ellie would look after him, getting him coffee and food from the cafeteria. Harry did his best to engage Tig in conversation, asking about his early days as a new member of the Club and even learning some interesting facts about his stint in the Marines. All were ways of trying to keep Tig and everyone around them from thinking about the young woman in the ICU fighting to stay alive and who had brought them all together as a family.
It was only fitting then that when Opie's stubborn redheaded vixen decided to wake up, that they were all there for the good news.
Opie's eyes had literally exploded in his head with fear as he heard the sound of high heels quickly clicking as someone ran down the corridor before Tina bounded into the waiting room and ran towards him and Tig, only to hear good news.
"Fawn's awake!" She said excitedly.
As everyone jumped to their feet, Tig quickly enveloped Tina in his arms and gave her huge hug that swept her off her feet. With his children and his brothers crowding around him and patting him on the back, Opie finally felt the weight of all of his fears lift from his heart.
"What are we waiting for?" Opie swiped at the tears on his face he hadn't realized were there. "Let's go see my old lady." He announced.
The moment Fawn Marie Trager had cracked open her one good eye, the panic quickly started setting in. The last thing she could remember clearly was having her shirt ripped open by the asshole that had broken into her beloved shop again. Unsure where she was, all Fawn knew for sure was that she was lying on her back and her attacker might very well still be there, waiting to brutalize her further.
Feeling the overwhelming need to get back on her feet, Fawn tried moving, but her sides ached in protest. Lying still, she focused on the steady "blip" sound coming from somewhere behind her and then it hit her.
After 11 years, she once again found herself in the body shop.
The last time Fawn had been a patient in a hospital had been when she had overdosed. Hospitals, a place she associated with sickness and dying, especially after her mother had started working in one after she graduated nursing school, didn't even crack her list of favorite places in the world. A piranha-infested river in the Amazon ranked higher than hospitals. Her distaste for these institutions of healing had more to do with resentment, however, than they did with an actual fear of dying. Never really overly close to her mother, once Colleen started working as an ER nurse she and Fawn had become even more estranged. With two young daughters left to fend for themselves when they needed parental guidance the most, it wasn't any wonder why Fawn, and even Dawn to a certain extent, had gotten into trouble as teenagers.
So for Fawn, waking up and finding herself in what was most likely St. Thomas had her tense and somewhat fearful for her future sobriety.
"Shit!" Fawn croaked, her voice reedy and dry.
The familiar soft and soothing voice that had gently coaxed her out of her deep slumber by telling Fawn she needed to wake up because her family loved and missed her—suddenly stopped.
"Shit, T," Fawn started as she waded through the last of the murky sea of unconsciousness. "If you wanted me to wake up, all you had to do was send my Redwood in." Fawn had finally managed to say through cracked and blackened lips. "He's been known to wake me from a deep sleep for some nookie. Damn! I feel like shit."
With a screech, Tina Giamatti had leaped out of the hard-backed and uncomfortable chair in the room and pounced on the bed. "Oh my God!" She blubbered as tears streaked down her cheeks. "What the hell took you so long?"
Giving her a soft, but enthusiastic kiss on the forehead, Tina ran outside to share the good news with the rest of the family in the waiting room.
The next person to walk through her door was not her Redwood, however. Instead, it was a tall young woman wearing a lab coat and the standard issue pair of green scrubs that quickly entered the room with a nurse.
"Well, I am so glad you decided to rejoin the world of the living." The doctor smiled.
"Yeah, I think I prefer it to the land of the dead any ol' day." Fawn replied, her voice raspy. "I'm thirsty. Can I have some water please?"
"Absolutely," The doctor replied and using the controls for the bed, gently brought Fawn into a semi-upright position. Taking the large plastic container holding iced water with a straw from the nurse, she helped Fawn sip a mouthful of water before pulling it out of her mouth.
The water was soothing and having lubricated her parched throat, Fawn found it easier to speak. "Damn, I never thought water could taste so good, but it wasn't enough."
"It is for right now." The young woman replied as she handed to cup back to the nurse.
"So I gather you're my doc?"
"Dr. Lauren Shay."
Looking at the clean and scrubbed face of the doctor—a woman probably not that much older than herself—Fawn felt decidedly unwashed and unkempt.
God only knows what the fuck I look like, she thought.
Most definitely like shit, inner-Fawn snarked. But at least you're alive.
Fawn winced as she tried moving her limbs, which seemed heavy and felt the aches and pains of a body well and truly beaten. "How long have I been here?"
"Three days." Dr. Shay replied.
"What?" Fawn replied blankly. "How?"
"You took a pretty nasty knock to the head and were in a coma. Do you remember what happened?" The doctor asked gently.
As Fawn attempted to push the cobwebs away from her mind, her memory slowly started to return. The doctor could see it as it played over her face, the anger and rage. And then the fear. Dr. Shay moved quickly to squash it.
"Well, one thing's for sure. You know how to kick some serious ass. Your attacker may have been a pretty mean son of a bitch, but you held your own against him." Dr. Shay said quietly. "Other than a pretty good beating, you're fine."
Fawn's face showed some relief. "I think I remember most of what happened, but my mind's still a little fuzzy. I do remember him ripping at my clothes." She tried to wet her lips but her tongue was so dry. "Did he—"
Dr. Shay shook her head firmly. "No, he didn't. You put up quite a fight and came in here wearing copious amounts of his blood." The young doctor smiled at her. "His attack on you, however, was brutal and caused a significant amount of damage." She quickly ran down Fawn's list of injuries.
"Shit!" Fawn would have bellowed if she had the strength to do so as she finally noticed the cast on her right arm. "How am I supposed to earn a living with one good arm? I can't believe the bastard did this to me." She winced again as she felt the pain on both sides of her body from the broken ribs. Her one blue eye, the other still swollen shut, was blazing with anger.
"It was a pretty bad break, but fortunately, we could set it without having to operate. You'll have a cast on for about six to eight weeks." Dr. Shay advised. "I know that must be tough to hear. I've heard a lot about you from the nurses. I hear you do great work and a couple even told me point blank that I might benefit from visiting your salon." She smiled ruefully.
Fawn tried to chuckle, but even that hurt. Tilting her head to the side, Fawn did a quick assessment with her one good eye. The young doctor was attractive in spite of the lanky long brown hair she wore in a ponytail "Well, once I'm better, come down to the salon and I'll hook you up, no charge, Doc." Fawn offered. "That is, if my salon survived."
"According to one of your business partners, the salon is fine." Dr. Shay said gently. "From what I understand it was you who took all of the damage."
Hearing that the salon was okay had Fawn feeling a measure of relief, but she knew she wouldn't completely believe it until she saw her baby for herself.
However, it was far easier to think about the salon than it was to think about how her old man had held up during the past three days. Sure as shit Opie had beat himself up over what had happened, even though it was her own damn fault for being so stubborn.
"So now that I've returned to the land of the living," Fawn started. "When can I go home?"
"Well, now that you're awake, we need to run several tests, including an MRI and a CAT scan. You'll also be meeting with a neurologist who will want to run his own tests. Although you seem cognizant and aware of your surroundings, it's just a precaution in order to rule out brain damage. At this point, I really can't say until all of your tests results are back." Dr. Shay explained as Fawn tried to pout but stopped as the stitches pulled at her lip. "On the bright side, your entire family has been gathered in the waiting room for the past three days. I'm sure they're eager to see you, so after I do a quick preliminary examination, I'll send them in for a brief visit. Then we're going to see about getting you well."
As the doctor and the nurse quickly started taking her vital signs, Fawn laid back on her pillow with a sigh, praying that they took take their sweet time tending to her.
Because all hell's gonna break loose when I have to tell my Redwood who it was that tore me up.
"Hey, baby," Fawn said softly as the man she loved more than life itself walked into her room.
Opie strode across the small open space to her bedside in two giant steps before he reached out to take her in his arms. She looked beat to shit, but his woman was sitting upright and grinning at him through cracked lips. Even with a multitude of bruises and lacerations covering her body and face, Fawn Trager was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
"Baby," Opie said hoarsely before he gently placed his lips on hers, not even caring to hide the tears that slipped down his cheeks as he tenderly stroked her back with his large hands.
Cupping her body close to his, Opie gently placed kisses all over her face and nearly moaned with joy as he felt her long slender fingers caress his cheek and beard as she kissed him back.
Until this very moment, Opie hadn't been sure that he would ever get to hold his Big Red or feel her caresses ever again. Being the spawn of Trager, part of him should have realized that his old lady was just too damn stubborn to die on him. But it had hurt too much to even contemplate life without her that any hopes Opie had he had kept buried deep within him. Waiting for days not knowing if she was ever going to wake up had nearly driven him insane. Opie sighed contentedly, finally releasing the breath he had been waiting to exhale for the past three days. As he nuzzled the crook of her neck all he could think about was that, at least for the time being, she would be too weak to start shit with him considering the ear-twisting she was in for putting him through this.
Boy, was he wrong.
Suddenly Opie felt a sharp tug on his beard. "Ow!" He yelped. "What the fuck, Big Red?"
"What the fuck, you say? What the fuck is this, Redwood?" Opie winced as he felt something yanked off of his head and shoved into his face. Looking down at Fawn's good hand he saw the last of his favorite hats clenched into the small fist. "I thought I got rid of this shit."
"Are you serious?" Opie shot back. "You've been dead to the world for the last three days and all you can think of doing is yell at me about a damn hat?"
"Yeah, especially when you know I hate that shit." Fawn replied as she tossed the godforsaken hat to the foot of her bed, a Herculean effort considering her current condition.
"Oh shut up and kiss me," Her old man ordered with a devastatingly sexy grin before taking her in his arms again. Fawn slid her fingers into his thick hair, now free of its former constraints, as Opie pressed his lips to hers gently again.
In spite of the fact that the couple was completely engrossed in each other and oblivious to the world around them, the room was quickly overflowing with people. Cradled in the arms of her old man Fawn couldn't see them, but she could certainly hear them—her father, in spite of the slight emotion cracking his voice, was being his snarky self as he argued with Tina; Lexie was unabashedly crying, along with Ellie; and Tina was doing her best to keep Tig corralled in order to give the couple a brief moment to reunite before he jumped in.
Her friend, however, could hold her Dad back only for so long. "Okay, youse two. Break it the fuck up." The SAA replied brusquely. "You've had your turn. Now let the rest of us get in."
Opie heard his brother in the background, and reluctantly let Fawn pull herself out of his embrace. "I guess I have to give you up for a minute." Opie murmured before pressing a kiss on top of her head.
"Just a minute." Fawn whispered back with a slight smile.
As her old man finally stepped aside, Fawn once again found herself being gently smothered by a set of powerful arms. "Shit, Fawnzy. You sure took your fuckin' time waking up." Her father muttered close to her ear.
"Payback's a bitch, you geezer." She teased him. "Now you know how I felt with you laid up in the hospital all those months ago."
But the outlaw was serious as he looked down at his daughter. "No, baby girl. It was a hell of a lot worse than that." Tig said soberly.
No parent should ever have to face the possibility of losing their child and for the second time in his life, Tig had come close to losing Fawn. The knowledge of that had taken the outlaw biker to a very dark place emotionally and now that she was awake and in his arms, all he wanted was to find the assholes responsible for nearly taking his daughter away from him.
Being an alpha male always came quite naturally to Tig Trager. Full of bravado, as an outlaw biker he wore his male pride like a suit of armor, so it deeply moved Fawn to hear his voice raw with emotion and to see him fight to conceal the toll the pain and grief he had lived with for the past three days had taken on him. Fawn tried to hug him fiercely despite her cast and the pain caused by her broken ribs. The fact that it was a weak attempt did not go unnoticed by either her father or her old man. Their hearts hardened with the resolve to find the fuckers responsible and force feed them their balls.
Pulling away from his daughter, Tig stood back with Opie and watched her reunion first with Harry and then Lexie, Ellie and Tina. It quickly got emotional as all four women cried and talked over one another, which had Tig contemplating breaking up the hen gathering before he was up to his ass in a river of tears. Besides, there were more pressing matters that needed to be addressed at the moment.
"Okay, you broads," He said a little sharply and the words cut like a knife between the women. "I know that you have a lot you wanna talk about, but we have important shit to discuss with Fawnzy right now." He paused and looked over at Opie.
Catching his brother's eye, the VP knew that Tig was right. He walked over and placed a gentle hand on Lexie's arm. "Lex, can you do us a favor? Fawn's mother is staying over at the Ramada, and—"
"Mom's here?" Fawn was stunned. "Shit, who called her?"
"No one." Tina said quietly. "Apparently, you forgot to let her know that the grand opening was postponed. She showed up on Saturday to surprise you."
"Oh shit," Fawn moaned and she looked at her father. "And you're still alive?"
"Barely." Tig snorted. "Doll Face managed to cool her jets some, but Coll's still acting like a complete gash." The SAA replied as he thought about his old lady.
While everyone was trying to be considerate of his daughter's mother, Colleen Trager hadn't given a damn. Although the SAMCRO Queen had smoothed shit over with her and had gone beyond the call of duty by offering to put her up in the Teller home, Colleen had snubbed the younger woman's gesture of hospitality, insisting rather rudely that she would be better off staying in a motel. Drawing the short straw, Filthy Phil had the "privilege" of escorting Colleen to the motel. Colleen would show up at the hospital daily and spend an hour or two by Fawn's bedside before returning to her self-imposed exile, something which Tig had been grateful for.
"Damn," Fawn moaned. "I didn't bother to call her to let her know. She never responded to the invite, so I just assumed she was still pissed at me and not coming. How's she been acting?"
"Like a real peach, Fawnzy." Tig said derisively. "What the fuck, really? This is your mother we're talking about."
"Look, none of that is important right now," Opie cut in. There was no need for Fawn to know the absolute bitchy fit her mother had thrown or the antipathy she had generated among the Club in general. Besides, he had dealt with bad in-laws before. If Opie could deal with the bucket of sunshine that had been Donna's mother, he could deal with anybody. Even Colleen Trager.
"I'm sure she would want to know that you're awake." Opie continued and turned to Lexie. "Lex, do you think you could head over to the Ramada and bring her here? I'd send the Prospect," He nudged his head towards his son. "But she really doesn't care much for the Club, but she still deserves to be here."
"Sure, Opie. I don't mind," Lexie said compassionately, although having met the woman a couple of days ago, she had to admit that Fawn's mother was a bit of a pill. She wasn't looking forward to having to engage the harridan in conversation again. Grabbing her handbag which she had haphazardly discarded onto one of the chairs, Lexie walked over to give Fawn a hug, promising to return with her mother in twenty minutes.
As the door closed behind her, Fawn slumped back onto her bed. "Shit, Mom's in town. I think I would have preferred staying in a fuckin' coma." She moaned as she rested her forearm over her forehead, the loose sleeve of her hospital gown falling back to reveal Opie's crow.
"Yeah, and I guess I should warn ya." Tig said as he nodded at his daughter's arm. "Coll' got a good look at your new ink there and let's just say she was a little tweaked."
"Well, too fuckin' bad for Mom then." She retorted. "She better get untweaked and quick because I will find the energy to fight her on this if she wants to throw down."
"Maybe we should call Lexie back, cut Fawn a little break here." Tina suggested anxiously. "She doesn't need any more stress. She just woke up from a fuckin' coma."
"We don't tell Coll' and there'll be hell to pay," Tig counseled. "Don't worry, Doll. I know how to handle her. Right now we have more important shit that needs taking care of."
"Like what?" Tina asked blankly.
"Like finding out who put my old lady in the hospital." Opie replied quietly, his tone not betraying the rage he was struggling with, but which was clearly evident on his face.
Oh shit, Fawn thought as both her old man and her father turned to face her, their eyes literally boring holes in her head.
"So I'm gathering the douche bags got away?" She said in an effort to stall for a little time.
"Yeah, they did." Opie replied evenly. "Why the hell were you alone to begin with, Fawn?"
Damn it, I knew that was coming. I'm in for it now!
As you should, inner-Fawn replied. Redwood was right. You should have had more prospects on hand.
Fawn tried to sit up straight in order to take her beating like a man, but winced a little as her ribs protested the effort. Seeing her pain, Tina quickly darted to her side to try and make Fawn a little more comfortable.
Both Opie and Tig knew when Fawn was stalling for time, but to say that out loud would surely earn them a reprimanding glare from Momma T. So they waited for Mother Hen to stop fussing over her little chick before pressing her for the truth.
Finally, Tina stepped away and Fawn eyed her man with resignation. "It was late, Ope, and I was hungry. Tina and Ellie were on their way back from Stockton, so I convinced the Prospect to go pick us up some dinner." She sighed. "At the most, it was a twenty minute run to the diner and back and I never thought that something like this would happen, especially since I locked up behind him and even set the alarm. Trust me, if I knew then what I know now, I never would have sent him."
Tina wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "What happened to him anyway? Shepherd, right? I don't think I've seen him since." She swung her head over to eye Tig inquiringly.
"If he's lucky, none of us will ever see that prick again." Harry responded. "Chicken shit's probably still running."
"And he better never stop," Opie added. "We're not the only ones looking for him."
The fact was the Prospect had returned to the salon after picking up the food, but hadn't stayed for long. The cowardly little shit had avoided being confronted by the two low-life's that had broken in by hiding in the supply closet. After they had taken off, Shepherd had dumped the bags of food on the second floor, along with his kutte and the keys to Fawn's car and hightailed it out of the salon.
Leaving a beaten and broken Fawn bleeding upstairs.
"He's not important right now," Tig said. "What is important, Fawnzy, is you telling us if you can confirm who it was that attacked you. The security tapes only caught them coming and going. One of them looked pretty jacked up too, but they were both wearing ski masks."
"I know, but—" Fawn started.
"You don't have to protect him, Fawn." Opie started bitterly. "He crossed the line big time. I should have killed him when I had the chance."
Fawn nodded. "You're right, baby. And I'm not protecting anyone. Right now, I want him dead too." She grew angry at the thought of what the man had nearly done to her.
"Good! I'm fuckin' glad to hear that." Tig said angrily. "With the exception of my brother here, when it comes to picking the shittiest boyfriends, you have all the luck in the world."
Fawn's eyebrows shot up into hairline which was covered by bandages. "Boyfriend? What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy shit?"
Opie stared into Fawn's confused eyes. "Babe, the past no longer matters and you need to let it go. After what he did to you and the salon, you don't owe him shit. Max-fucking-Ryder is a dead man."
"You think Max had something to do with this?" Tina sputtered in shock.
"Yes, I do." Turning to face his wide-eyed woman, Opie nearly snarled, his anger finally spilling out. "And nothing you can say will spare him his life."
"Really? There's absolutely nothing I can say that would stop you from killing an innocent man?" Fawn drawled out casually as she eyed her old man.
"Innocent? What the fuck are you talking about?" Opie's eyes narrowed at the determined looked on his old ladies face.
"Max didn't do this to me. And he didn't wreck the shop either." Fawn replied calmly as she looked straight into Opie's dark green eyes. "It was Chip Jr."
A/N: So did you see that coming?! Props to the anonymous reviewer who did and guessed correctly. Kudos!
As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. Thanks to you, all my lovelies, I broke another personal record with over 30 reviews for ONE chapter. Awesome, guys!
There's so much more to come, so please keep reading and remember, review=preview!
—Harlee