Beauty and the Charming Outlaw

by Harlee Quinn

AU: When Tig is gravely injured, his estranged daughter comes to take care of her father while trying to fix their relationship. Opie Winston, still mourning his old lady, is smitten with Tig's outrageously outspoken and incredibly sexy daughter. As they butt heads, everyone around them can see it's love-at-first-fight. Do they? Part of the Jaxene Universe

35. Alive & Kicking

Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.

AN: I am so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. It's been a pretty rough past two weeks for me, but hopefully getting this up today means I'm back on schedule. Keep your fingers crossed! Enjoy! And thanks for reading.

---

With a population of over 200,000 residents, Modesto was the largest city in Stanislaus County. Surrounded by sprawling farmland, it was also Northern California's largest agricultural producer, grossing billions of dollars a year in revenue. Much of that wealth remained with roughly one percent of the city's population and with crime rates among the highest of all cities in NorCal, the wealthy had built their own private gated-communities to keep themselves insulated from the outside world. It would probably surprise no one in the exclusive community known as Cobblestone—at least not those that really knew him—to learn that Charles "Chip" Preston Jr. was not only a member of Modesto's privileged class, but also the primary cause behind the recent rash of property and auto thefts to plague the exclusive enclave.

Standing in front of the double mirror in the oversized marble bathroom of the lavish pool house on one such estate, Chip was angrily inspecting the damage the redheaded bitch had inflicted on him several days ago. The sink was overflowing with soiled and bloody bandages as he rifled through the contents of the first aid kit lying on the counter.

The bruises on Chip's face were starting to turn from their initial black and blue palette to yellow and brown and even though the swelling of his eye and lip had subsided significantly, his nose had not. Since Sam insisted that he avoid going to a local emergency room for medical attention, Chip continued to hide away in the pool house tending to his own wounds. Staring at the white adhesive tape across the bridge of his nose, Chip feared that it was likely that it would end up sitting crooked on what had been a very handsome face.

But it was his ear that had suffered the most damage and even now the angry young man could barely bring himself to look it. He wouldn't have to either if Sam was any type of friend, but the arrogant prick was no help at all. As Chip gingerly cleaned the mangled ear with cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide, to his way of thinking it had been a miracle that he hadn't bled out. As it was, every time he changed his bandages, his ear started oozing blood and the pain was becoming close to unbearable.

"That fuckin' bitch!" Chip growled under his breath as he looked into the mirror at his now-ruined face. At least he hadn't let the skank get off easy.

It had been an unexpected, but lucky break running into the woman responsible for the chaos his life had become since their first encounter in the strip mall parking lot in Stockton. All he had wanted was some pussy from the cunt he had been dating on and off for weeks, but the little bitch refused to give it up without a fight. Ellie was her name. Ellie Winston. She had been really hot too with the right amount naïve innocence that got him hard just thinking about it. Ellie had managed to keep him at arm's length, but on that day last spring, Chip had decided that he had had enough of waiting until she was ready.

After convincing Ellie to ditch school, they had driven to Stockton where it was a lot easier for Chip to buy liquor without getting carded. The plan had been to take Ellie to his father's condo in San Francisco where he would nail her in the hot tub. But first he needed to get her to mellow out a bit and stop being such an uptight little virgin. While still in the parking lot, Chip had convinced Ellie to smoke a blunt with him, but she had resisted taking more than just a couple of sips from the bottle of Vodka he had spiked with powdered X.

Claiming she wasn't feeling well, Ellie had insisted that Chip take her back home. When he refused, she had jumped out of his car, but Chip could see that the weed and Vodka had started to take effect and he wasn't going to let the opportunity to be the one to break Ellie in get away. Even if he had to fuck her in the back seat, Chip was determined to get her back into his car. The commotion Ellie had caused had drawn the attention of the Amazonian bitch with something to prove who then proceeded to beat the shit out of his Beamer with a tire iron. The interfering redhead had forced him to leave the little bitch Ellie behind in order to save his car from further damage.

Shit only got more complicated for Chip when he tried to get his car repaired behind his father's back. One of Chip Sr.'s employees at the dealership Chip used to buy coke from had recommended a garage in the hick town of Charming where, instead of getting his car fixed, he ended up getting beat to shit. In the past, Chip had always managed to buy his way out of trouble with angry parents whose daughters had been on the receiving end of his overly aggressive "charm", but not this time. First, some white trash mechanic close to his age had used him as a punching bag as a warm up for the main event as the cunt's father nearly beat him to death. Chip winced at the memory of the brutal beating. What had nearly killed him, however, had been the complete and utter destruction of his brand new car by the gang of biker thugs before they dumped his ass and his car at his father's feet. Thinking they operated above the law, Ellie's giant of a father had no qualms either about threatening to kill him in front of a parking lot filled with onlookers if he ever saw Chip again.

The beating, Chip was quickly learning, he could have lived with and he could have explained the busted taillights away with some bullshit story. What Chip had been unable to overcome had been having what happened with Ellie exposed to his father. Ole Chip Sr. was fed up with having to intercede on behalf of his wayward son for the same shit over and over. His father had not only pulled his college tuition, but had cut Chip off financially.

Losing his free ride through college Chip could hardly bring himself to give a shit about. But to someone who had the intention of never having to work for a living, losing access to his father's hard-earned money had Chip going all kinds of crazy. With his old man refusing to budge on the issue until he cleaned up his act, Chip had no choice but to find other means of supporting the lifestyle to which he had grown accustomed.

It had taken Chip damn near close to a month to recover from the beating he had received from Ellie's father, but once he had, it was business as usual.

Out partying one night with Sam Boland, a friend of a friend and a group of similarly spoiled rich kids, Chip ended up piss drunk and driving one of the luxury cars he had boosted from his father's dealership with the intention of returning it before Chip Sr. was none the wiser. Unfortunately, he ended up getting pulled over and with a blood alcohol level of 0.08%, the California Highway Patrolman was going to haul his ass in when Sam identified himself to the officer. In spite of his own drunken state, Sam had suavely managed to feel the cop out who, upon learning that Sam's father was a rather influential businessman, seemed open to letting shit slide for the right price.

With the motorcycle cop escorting them to the entrance of their gated community, Chip and Sam had been able to walk away from a DUI and a possible charge of grand theft auto as the officer walked away with a pocket full of cash and Chip's Rolex watch.

Chip was eternally grateful to his now-best friend and, when a couple of days later Sam approached him with a scheme by which he could pay him back while earning himself some fast money and getting his old man off of his back, Chip was eager to listen.

If he was honest with himself, Chip would admit that he was a little in awe of Sam Boland. The young man was definitely something of a bad ass with a head for strategic planning. Like his father, Sam was an entrepreneur, just one that operated on the other side of the law. Cashing in on his intimate knowledge of his friends' family estates, Sam had used his rather dubious underground connections to terrorize the gated communities of Modesto for profit. Having formed a small gang of sorts, Sam planned and oversaw the group as they carried out several B&E's, breaking into homes he knew for a fact were unoccupied and relieving them of anything of value as long as it was portable.

Bringing Chip into his enterprise had allowed Sam to expand his little cottage industry to include stealing cars from these properties as well. Using his knowledge of his father's business, Chip had managed to make several connections that put him in touch with several chop shops throughout NorCal. He had managed to impress Sam so much that he agreed to split the profits evenly, with a one or two percent cut going to the tweakers that formed their crew. Growing more confident with each job they planned and successfully executed, Sam was even considering branching out, giving Modesto a chance to recoup while they moved on to similar affluent areas in San Leandro and Sacramento, with the duo using their hard-partying, high-rolling social life to find new marks to hit.

Vandalizing the salon in Charming, however, had been unrelated to the business they usually dealt with. It was more of a favor that Sam was doing for his father Leonard Boland and should have been an easy job. Trashing the newly-renovated business had been a lot of fun, and Chip had let off plenty of steam with all the damage he had caused, but it had also been the closest they had ever come to getting caught, just barely getting away when that cop came out of nowhere and gave chase. That was why Chip had been apprehensive about going back to finish the job.

All the anxiety of getting caught had quickly left Chip, however, when he realized that the bird from the parking lot was the same bitch that taken a few swings at him with some metal rod on the second floor of the salon. He knew the redheaded whore had acted tough, but anyone could be a bad ass with a tire iron in their hand. This bitch had surprised him, though, because he had not expected her to fight back so hard or do so much damage. With the local hospitals probably on the look out for someone sporting injuries like his, Chip had been reduced to hiding out in Sam's pool house until shit died down. But beating the shit out of someone had never felt so great and he was still a little peeved that Sam had stopped him before he got to have some real fun with the cunt. After all, even with the bruises he had put on her face, she was a fuckin' hot piece of ass.

"Fuckin' bitch turned me into some gruesome gargoyle." Chip muttered to himself as he finished re-bandaging his ear. "She fucked me up!"

"She certainly did." A voice replied sardonically from the doorway of the bathroom. "And it served your ass right."

Chip turned around to face Sam and leaned against the bathroom sink. "What the fuck, man? She deserved that shit and more. That bitch fucked up my life."

"What you were about to do to her, man," Sam countered, the memory of Chip pawing at the woman's clothes sickening him. "That was never part of the plan."

"Maybe it wasn't a part of your plan," Chip argued. "But I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to pay the bitch back for cock-blocking me, fucking up my car, and getting me disowned."

"You're such an asshole," Sam replied. "Yeah, you may have gotten a couple of good hits in and you definitely scared the shit out of her when she thought you were gonna rape her, but your DNA and half of your ear are probably lying in an evidence bag somewhere in some police station. Looks like she may get the last laugh after all and all because you decided to go off script."

The tall and brawny young man eyed the angry POS standing in front of him. In spite of the fact that Chip had always been a part of his social circle of friends, Sam had never really liked him. Although he had graduated high school the same year Chip started, Sam had heard shit about the kid that made his skin crawl. Although popular for his good looks and his father's money, rumors about Chip had circulated for years about him being involved in some date rape scandal more than once. Sam had heard that one girl had gone so far as to press charges, claiming that when she had resisted his advances, Chip had beat her into submission and forced himself on her.

As far as anyone in Cobblestone knew, however, the charges were later dropped when the girl recanted and said the incident had been a misunderstanding. Being the pompous, big mouth asshole Sam had always known him to be, Chip had bragged how the girl's family knew what a slut their daughter actually was and had dropped the case out of embarrassment. Sam had heard that the family had been paid off handsomely to make it all go away, which they did by moving to the east coast less than six months later. Up until a few days ago, stories like that about Chip Preston Jr. had been just that: stories and unfounded rumors. After witnessing with his own eyes what he was sure was a rape about to happen, Sam had started questioning the wisdom of partnering with the obviously disturbed young man bleeding all over his bathroom. Stealing from the rich who barely noticed their shit was missing and who usually blamed their grossly underpaid hired help first was one thing.

Brutally beating and nearly raping a woman whose business they had only been tasked to ransack was nasty business and not anything Sam Boland wanted his name attached to.

So still completely disgusted with Chip, Sam didn't pull any punches. "Now you need to pack your shit and get out of here."

Chip stared disbelievingly at his friend. "What the hell, dude? Are you serious?" He burst out.

"Yeah, I am. We had a good thing going until you pulled that stunt in Charming. That shit's all over the news and my father is royally pissed. You're a liability we can no longer afford and I've been ordered to get rid of your ass." Sam replied brusquely.

"You can't do this to me!" Chip declared angrily. "I have nowhere to go where I can lay low. Where in the fuck am I supposed to go?!"

"Maybe your Dad will take you back." Sam offered.

"Looking like this?! He'll know some shit went down and will probably call the cops himself."

"Then you better find someplace to lie low, but you can't stay here. I want you out of here in an hour." Sam said curtly.

"You can't do this to me, man." Chip shook his head in disbelief. "We go way the fuck back."

"No, not that far back."

"This is bullshit!" Chip blustered. "Kicking me out will be the worst mistake you've ever made. You know I know shit."

The smile on Sam's face belied the anger in his amber-colored eyes. "Really? You're gonna threaten the guy who with one phone call to the Sheriffs can fuck your life? The guy who didn't leave a scrap of DNA evidence behind and who has at least twenty people, including a couple of bouncers, ready to swear that I was out clubbing the night you trashed the salon? And as for our former partnership, you're better off shooting yourself in the head if you think you can get away with turning on a bunch of tweakers. All they care about is making enough money for their next dime bag, so you might as well kill yourself or they will and they won't be nearly as nice as I would." Sam smiled thinly before turning and heading back to the pool house's door. "I'll be back here in an hour. If I find you still here, we're gonna have a problem."

Chip stood stock still as he heard the front door open and close.

What the fuck am I going to do?

Even though his options were severely limited, Chip didn't dare cross Sam or his father and had no choice but to figure something out and fast. Latching onto what Sam had said about tweakers doing whatever they needed to do for some cash, Chip realized that there was maybe one place he could go for shelter. Moving to the bedroom, Chip quickly packed his shit and headed towards his truck.

---

"It was Chip Jr."

A dead silence fell over the occupants of the room. Fawn leaned back into her pillows, already exhausted by the impact the bomb she had just dropped would cause.

Ellie, who had been quiet during Fawn's exchange with Opie and Tig, felt the color drain from her face. Suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, she fought the urge to spew its contents all over the floor of her friend's hospital room. The friend Ellie now felt responsible for putting there in the first place.

"Oh my God, Fawn," Ellie stepped forward to grasp the battered hand of her father's old lady. "Are you sure it was him?"

Fawn nodded soberly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I've never been more sure of anything in my life." She watched as a multitude of emotions fluttered across Ellie's face and realizing where the younger girl's mind was racing towards, quickly moved to head her off. "Elle, I want you to stop right there. What happened to me has absolutely nothing to do with you. You're not responsible for any of this."

"How can you say that?" Ellie shook her head as a stream of effortless tears washed over her flushed cheeks. "Chip came after you because of what happened in Stockton. It is my fault."

Meanwhile, Opie felt as if he had been hit with a one ton anvil. He couldn't help but share his daughter's sense of guilt. Months ago, when that worthless piece of shit had come onto the SAMCRO VP's radar after what he had tried to do to Ellie, Opie had wasted no time in beating him half to death. Revenge was the only reason Opie could fathom as to why this asshole would rear his ugly head months after being so brutally dealt with. Chip Preston's reasons for what he had done to his old lady didn't matter, however. All that mattered to Opie was that he was a man of his word and he had promised to kill the son of a bitch if he ever set foot in Charming again.

But first he had to be sure his Big Red had it right.

Reaching out Opie gently took the hand of Fawn's injured arm in his. "Baby, are you sure about this? A vehicle fitting the description of Max's truck was seen speeding away from the salon after the first hit."

"Yeah, Fawnzy," Tig chimed in. "And this time around, the douche bags were caught by the security cameras and one of 'em was built just like him too. Are you sure it wasn't that fucker?"

Fawn felt her heart tighten in her chest as she eyed the two most important men in her life, quickly coming to the realization that they had conspired to keep shit from her. "A truck that looked like Max's was seen leaving the scene a few weeks ago?" Fawn asked incredulously. "If that was the case, why hasn't Roosevelt arrested him?"

"Roosevelt doesn't know." Her father replied simply. "The cop that gave chase was a do-gooder rookie. He was so intent on catching him that he didn't pay attention to the license plate until it was too late and Max had gotten away. Roosevelt let slip the description of the cage and we just decided not to fill him in on what we knew."

"Or me for that matter." Fawn retorted. "Why didn't you tell me you had this information? Why would you keep that shit from me?"

"You didn't need to know, Fawn." Opie responded irritably. "The Club was taking care of it."

"Oh, silly ol' me! I should have known that the Club was taking care of it." Fawn said sarcastically. "With all due respect to the Club, they got it fuckin' wrong this time, didn't they? But how would the Club know that since the Club never bothered to clue me in. Newsflash, Ope. I'm not fuckin' the Club. I am, however, fuckin' you! Did it ever occur to you that as your old lady and co-owner of the salon that maybe I had a right to know just what the Club was taking care of?"

"Fawnzy, you need to pull back on that shit just a little 'cause you're taking this all the wrong way." Tig said heatedly. "Opie thought and I agreed that you knowing Max was involved would just cause you more pain on top of all that douche bag had already inflicted on ya. Your old man was just looking out for you."

"Dad, that may be true, but not telling me what the Club was up to kept me from letting you know that you were barking up the wrong fuckin' tree." Fawn tried to hold back on her anger like her father suggested, but was having a hard time. She was tired, and hungry and was still in a considerable amount of pain. Not to mention that she just woke up from a fuckin' coma!

Being back in the hospital was taking Fawn back to a pretty bad place, mentally speaking. Dr. Shay had offered to prescribe something that would take the edge off her pain, but Fawn had adamantly refused. That had been hours ago and the fact that practically every bone and muscle in her body was throbbing in pain was eating away at her resolve to stay off painkillers. Being in a situation where it would be so easy to score something that would take her pain away had Fawn freaking out over her continued sobriety. Having explained her situation to the doctor, the young woman had understood, but tried convincing Fawn to consider taking an over-the-counter pain medication, but even the thought of swallowing a couple of Extra Strength Tylenol scared the shit out of Fawn.

Taking a deep breath, Fawn attempted to make herself heard without further losing her shit. "Look, you got it wrong. Neither of you know Max the way I do. He's a charming dick and a cheater and had commitment issues up the ying-yang, but he would never deliberately hurt me. Besides, I'm sure he has his bimbos on parade by now and I'm probably the last thing on his mind as he's touring the world." Fawn eyed her old man cautiously. She didn't feel it was necessary to mention the brutal kiss Max had forced on her. It had less to do with him trying to inflict pain and more to do with him marking his territory. Max had been belligerent and had acted out of anger, not malice.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who felt they knew Max. Tina stepped towards Opie and placed a hand on his arm. "I hate to say it, but I have to agree with Fawn. I've known Max for way too long. He wasn't the right man for her, but he did care for Fawn in his own self-centered way. He would never hurt her like this. If anything, Fawn was the one that would get physical. As a matter of fact, she once gave Max a black eye for che—"

"Okay, T!" Fawn quickly interrupted. "You made your point. Max is not a violent man."

"He threatened you, Fawnzy. Said that you would regret choosing Ope over him." Tig said belligerently.

Fawn sighed. "That wasn't a threat, Dad. He just thought me getting involved with Opie was a mistake. That someday I would regret giving my life up in Seattle to settle down with an ex-con. His words, not mine, baby." She looked at her old man and shook her head. "Besides, if you thought he was threatening, I gotta wonder why you let him leave the Clubhouse alive." She teased with an arched eyebrow.

Opie ran a huge hand over his hair. "I wasn't in a particularly good frame of mind at the time, Big Red. Had I been thinking straight, I wouldn't have hesitated killing him, even if it did end up pissing you off."

Opie Winston was by no means squeamish. He had done a lot of shit during his years with the Club, much of it earning him his Men of Mayhem patch ten times over. But killing an innocent man was not something he had ever done and part of him was now grateful that the Club had not found Max Ryder. He was, however, looking forward to getting his hands on his daughter's former-boyfriend.

Looking at Ellie now, Fawn could still see the weight of her guilt weighing down on the young woman. Deciding that she and her old man would be having a serious conversation when they did not have an audience, Fawn pushed her own hurt feelings that Opie was keeping secrets from her and held her good arm out to Ellie, who had retreated into the corner of the room.

"Come here, Ellie." She beckoned softly. With a deep sigh barely heard through her sniffles, the young girl went into her arms. "Now, I'm only going to say this once. That asshole showing up in Charming had absolutely nothing to do with you. Do you understand me?"

Ellie took a breath and let out a little sob. "But—"

"Listen to Fawn, baby girl." Opie spoke up, his heart aching for his daughter. "There's only one person to blame and we're gonna make sure he—"

Unfortunately, for the moment at least, Chip's fate was left up in the air as the door to Fawn's room opened to reveal a grim-faced Sheriff Eli Roosevelt.

---

Sheriff Roosevelt's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him as the victim of a brutal beating tried to comfort the young woman sobbing in her arms.

Taking note that the room was filled to capacity, Roosevelt stepped inside as he acknowledged Opie Winston and Tig Trager with a nod of his head. It was too bad, really. Eli had hoped to interview Fawn Trager without interference from her family, which was why he had kept two deputies at the hospital round the clock to alert him as soon as the SAMCRO SAA's kid regained consciousness. He had just sat his ass down in Floyd's chair for his weekly shave when he got the call and beat a hasty path to St. Thomas.

It shouldn't have surprised him to find Fawn surrounded by her people considering that Opie Winston, her old man, hadn't left her side for three days and it showed. The giant of a man looked exhausted, but Eli could tell by the set of his broad shoulders and the fire in his eyes that he was there to protect his woman and had no intention of leaving her side. The last time the Sheriff had been in a position to question a Trager had also been in the hospital. Tig Trager had cheated death as a result of a still-unsolved shooting several months ago. That investigation, Eli was sure, had been controlled and thwarted by SAMCRO every step of the way. He was determined that this time around he would get the information he needed to make a proper arrest.

However, before he could start his inquiry, Roosevelt suddenly heard the door swing open behind him, the edge of which clipped him on the ass, startling him.

"Hey, watch it!" He barked.

"Sorry about that," Jax Teller replied as he squeezed behind the Sheriff. The room was starting to resemble a crowded elevator. Jax nodded at his brothers. "I got here as soon as I heard." Looking over to Fawn still cradling a crying Ellie, Jax narrowed his eyes, wondering what the fuck he had missed. Although, in his opinion, Fawn looked a hell of a lot better awake than in a fuckin' coma, it was obvious that something had upset Ellie and the SAMCRO President cursed himself for not getting to the hospital sooner.

Ignoring Teller, Roosevelt approached the foot of Fawn's bed. "Ms Trager," He started quietly. "I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that you decided to rejoin us all here in Charming." Eli flashed warm and sympathetic eyes at her as he eyed the young woman cradled in her good arm. "Is your stepdaughter all right?"

Fawn had been about to light into the Sheriff. After all, she had just come to and the last thing she needed or wanted were the cops haranguing her about what had happened. Fawn was cranky and in pain and all she wanted to do was comfort Ellie and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Now with Roosevelt and Jax Teller here and her mother probably only minutes away, suddenly slipping back into a coma was starting sound like a really good idea.

With all the mounting pressure, Fawn—as weak as she was—wanted to let off some steam and Roosevelt was looking like a prime target. That is until the lawman had uttered a few simple words recognizing that, despite the lack of a ring on her finger, the young woman in her arms was as good as hers and as such, Fawn found herself tempering her response.

"The strain of the last few days has finally caught up with her, but she'll be fine." Fawn replied. "Tina, please, could you take her out for some fresh air?"

Not really wanting to leave Fawn's side as she dealt with the Sheriff, but seeing Opie's nod of agreement, Tina made her way to Ellie and gently pulled her away. "Come on, sweetheart. You can see Fawn later. We'll take a nice walk and stop for some tea."

The room was silent for only a brief moment after the two women departed before Opie spoke up first to take command of the situation. "I'm sure you realize that the last thing my old lady needs right now is an interrogation." His voice was quiet but firm as he looked at the sheriff.

"Fawn's pretty scrappy, but I have to agree with Ope." Jax murmured under his breath. "I don't think her doctor would find all this activity advisable right now."

"No she wouldn't." Tig agreed in a much colder and unwelcoming voice. "Fawnzy needs to rest."

"I'm sure that she does," Eli agreed. "But I'm also sure that Ms. Trager realizes that there is a level of urgency here. After all, we are trying to apprehend whoever did this to her and the longer we wait, the colder the trail gets. I'm sure you remember that we were never able to catch your attackers, Trager. I don't want the same thing happening in this case as well."

The four men continued to spar verbally, virtually ignoring the miserable looking occupant in the bed. As they got louder and louder, Fawn realized that she needed to intervene soon or shit was going to get ugly with her outlaws possibly getting hauled off to jail for obstruction of justice.

"Alright already!" Fawn interrupted. "Just stop it, the lot of you. The Sheriff is only doing his job, so the quicker we get this over with, the quicker I can get that rest. I can tell you everything I know, which isn't much."

"Baby—" Opie started, but Fawn smiled up at him.

"I got this, Redwood." She said before turning her head to face Roosevelt. "Why don't I just start at the beginning?"

"That would be a great place to start." Eli agreed and for the next five minutes, with Opie standing by her side, Fawn explained as best she could her movements from the time she had locked herself in the salon until her altercation with one of the intruders before she was knocked out cold.

Opie's jaw was clenched so tight as he listened to Fawn recall blow-by-blow what had happened that night that it was in danger of cracking. He could literally see it unfolding before his very eyes as his old lady defiantly (and stupidly) took on her attacker without even thinking that she might not succeed. Opie looked over at Fawn's father, who was standing at the foot of the bed next to Roosevelt, with Jax on the other side of the Sheriff. For a man with the reputation of shooting first and asking questions later, the SAA was doing a pretty admirable job of holding his shit together.

As Fawn continued to speak softly, the door to her room opened once again, just wide enough for Lexie to slip inside the room alone. Opie wrinkled his brow in confusion as he cocked his head at Lexie. She silently shook her head when he silently mouthed "Colleen?" at her.

Tuning his attention back to Fawn, having been too distracted by Lexie to pay close attention to her continued recounting of the attack, at first Opie thought he had heard wrong. But as he focused his wide and shocked eyes on the hardened expression on her face, the SACMRO VP was hard pressed not to cut loose with a belly laugh.

"Baby, tell me you didn't!" He said with something of horrified admiration in his voice.

"Oh yes she did." Roosevelt confirmed with something of a wry smile. He had been busy taking down notes as Fawn spoke. "Whoever attacked Ms. Trager is tooling around missing his entire right lobe and a good portion of cartilage."

"Fuckin' A, Fawnzy!" Tig was sporting a smile that displayed all of his 32 teeth. Reaching over he gave her foot a gentle squeeze of approval, his eyes sparkling with humor for the first time during her recounting.

"I learned from the best." Fawn smiled weakly before father and daughter added in unison, "When all else fails, biting is totally fuckin' permissible."

"No doubt." Roosevelt barely managed to say without laughing out loud. "I think you should probably come with a warning label. I'm sure your attacker sorely regrets taking you on. Where were you exactly when you took that chunk out of his ear?"

"We were grappling on the floor by the window." Fawn replied. "He—he was gonna—I had no choice. I was desperate to get away."

"Nobody's gonna fault you for defending yourself, baby." Opie said grimly.

"No, they're not." Roosevelt agreed. "Ms. Trager—"

"Please, it's Fawn, Sheriff."

"Fawn, you did what you needed to do and because of it we have a ton of physical evidence, DNA that can tie the suspect to the crime once we get him in custody. We've alerted all of the hospitals and clinics in the Sanwa area to be on the lookout for anyone sporting this kind of injury and what you've shared helps in establishing an MO, but it's still not enough. It would be great if you could provide us with a physical description, with any and all distinguishing marks that you can remember."

Fawn shook her head regretfully. "I wish I could, but what I've given you is all I can remember." Fawn lied. "My attacker wore a ski mask the entire time. I don't even know how I was able to rip half his ear off. He may have had light colored eyes and could have been white, but I'm not too sure as I never saw his face. Weren't you able to get anything from the security footage?" She asked mournfully.

Roosevelt nodded. "Yes, but its very limited. Your cameras only cover the front and back doors. We have two perps on tape breaking in about 9:55, both wearing ski masks and dressed in all black. All we were able to piece together is a very general physical description. Both are believed to be white males—one about 6'3, bulky, and weighing about 190-225. The other, 6 feet, slim and about 170-180." Roosevelt sighed. "So you didn't see their faces at all?" He asked and Fawn shook her head. "We still have one other person we'd like to question, if we can find track him down."

"Who's that?" Harry spoke up.

"Paul Shepherd. I was told he's a prospect of the Club. We have him and Fawn on tape at about 9:40 when he left through the front door. Can you tell me why he was there and where he was going?" Roosevelt asked.

Fawn motioned to the water bottle sitting on the table and Opie let her have a sip. "He was one of the Prospects helping out at the salon with clean-up and providing security. I sent him to Nicky's for some food. I was waiting for Tina and Ellie for another late meeting."

"I see. Well, you could have done with better protection." Roosevelt said coldly. "Seems Shepherd came back to the salon with the perps still there. I don't know how they missed him, but we found a couple of bags of take-out in the office upstairs. The time stamp on the video indicates the suspects fled the scene at 10:03, one of them limping and looking worse for wear. A minute later, your guy hightailed it out of there—"

"He was a prospect. He wasn't one of us yet and never will be." Jax interrupted coldly.

"I think Shepherd might agree. Along with the food, he left behind his kutte, an unregistered weapon and what we later discovered were your car keys." The Sheriff finished.

Hearing that help had been within arm's reach and yet she had been left alone and bleeding didn't seem to faze the young woman, Roosevelt noted. She seemed resigned to accept it. Her three protectors, however, did not. Roosevelt knew how gangs worked and realized that it must be eating them alive that the Prospect had abandoned his post. Loyalty was an absolute must and members had to be willing to die for one another. Roosevelt realized that the shithead was as good as dead if the Club ever caught up with him.

"We tried tracking him down, but the room he was renting on the other side of town is empty. It's a shame, really, but I have a feeling we won't be hearing from him again." Eli said.

We better not, Opie thought angrily.

With Opie on the list of contacts for the security firm, he had received a copy of the same tapes the Sheriffs Department had. SAMCRO had viewed those tapes over and over and it never failed to piss them off as they watched the Prospect abandon his post. None had been angrier than Harry. On several occasions, Fawn had tried to wheedle her way around the young Prospect, but Harry had flat out refused to give into her whining. Had Harry had been on the scene, Opie knew the events of that night would have gone down differently. One or both of the intruders would have been dead by now after the Club had managed to extract the reason behind the attacks from them.

It was of little consolation now, but Opie realized that he should have listened to his gut and ignored Fawn's whining too. His Big Red had a way of wrapping him around her little finger and because he had let her, he'd assigned just one Prospect to monitor security at the salon on a nightly basis. If that coward Shepherd had an ounce of sense in that head of his, he'd steer clear of any state with a charter or a friendly MC.

Roosevelt returned to his questioning. "So there's nothing else you can remember about them?"

Fawn closed her eyes as if in contemplation and then opened them again, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. There's really nothing. I just wish I knew why they targeted the salon twice. Maybe then all of this would make sense."

"So do I," Roosevelt countered. "Because this time, your salon wasn't the only target. Whoever it was must not be working alone because they hit my wife's shop at about the same time that night." He said quietly as Fawn's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh Jesus! Really? I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed. "How bad?"

"They busted out the windows and the refrigeration units used to house to the flowers need to be replaced." Roosevelt replied. "Could have been worse, though. The evidence left behind looks like the plan was to torch the place. Unfortunately, Rita thought security cameras in the shop were unnecessary, so we have nothing to go on."

"That's horrible." Lexie interjected, finally drawing attention to herself.

Fawn craned her neck in order to see her partner standing behind the wall created by the three men at the foot of her bed. "Lex, I didn't realize you had come in. Where's my mother?"

Lexie stepped around the men so that she was in full view of Fawn. "I went to the hotel, but the desk clerk said that she left a couple of hours ago. I left her a message and headed back here as fast as I could." The young woman shook her head. "I can't believe all that's been going on. Nothing like this has ever happened in Charming."

"It is a little unbelievable, isn't it?" Roosevelt tucked his notebook into the pocket of his uniform shirt. "Three attacks in just under a week and all I can say with certainty is that they all seem to be connected."

Opie couldn't see any fault with the man's logic. Now that Max Ryder was no longer a suspect and Fawn had identified Chip Jr. as her attacker, with the simultaneous attack on Rita's shop, it was obvious that there was a definite connection. At the moment, however, it was difficult to gauge if the Club was that connection. It was something SAMCRO would be looking into as soon as Roosevelt saw fit to get the hell out of Fawn's room.

Unfortunately, Lexie Dawson wasn't done thinking out loud.

The spunky hairstylist had a pretty good head on her shoulders and she had spent a lot of time analyzing much of what has happened since she and Fawn had taken on the arduous task of remaking Gina's Cut-N-Curl. Now with the attack on Rita's flower shop, things were starting to click for her, so without discussing it with Fawn first, the young woman opened her mouth and dumped it all in the Sheriff's ear.

"Lieutenant, I'm starting to wonder if it has less to do with mere vandalism and more to do with the businesses themselves." Lexie started.

Oh shit, Fawn's eyes widened as she gave Lexie a slight shake of her head that the young woman didn't seem to comprehend meant shut the fuck up.

Opie tried to interrupt in a less subtle manner, but Roosevelt raised a hand and encouraged Lexie to continue. "In what way?"

"Well," Lexie replied slowly. "Ever since Fawn and I took the business over from my mother, we've had all sorts of problems, a shitpot full as a matter of fact, and one right after the other too. I think we were so engrossed in getting the renovations done that we pretty much brushed some of the issues off as par for the course. But something happened just before we started the renovation and again just a week ago and now I'm thinking it all might be connected."

Lexie suddenly hesitated a little as she realized that everyone in the room was hanging on her every word. "Please Ms. Dawson, continue." The Sheriff said.

"Well," She started. "It may be nothing, but someone offered to buy the salon at way below market value twice."

Roosevelt's eyes narrowed and it was as if someone had turned a bright light on in a darkened room. "When was this?" He asked abruptly.

"First time was soon after we started renovations and the last time was the Monday following the first attack on the salon. It was some development corporation out of Stockton and their first offer to buy both buildings was ridiculously low. We turned them down flat and when he didn't come back we never gave it a second thought. Soon after, we started having problems with the construction work. It seemed like every other week some major screw up was costing us a shitload of money. It got to the point that, had it not been for Tina coming on board, we were going to have to fold even before we really got started." Lexie sighed.

"This rep for the development company, his name wouldn't happen to be Don Forsyth?" Roosevelt questioned.

Lexie nodded. "Yeah, that's right. The second time he came around, he put a little more money on the table, but I kind of got the feeling that he was vaguely threatening us." Lexie stopped at looked at her friend sitting up in the hospital bed sadly. "Now that I think about, that's exactly what he did, isn't it? He said he wouldn't want for the people responsible to come back again and maybe hurt someone this time. That's exactly what happened. This can't be a fuckin' coincidence."

"No, I don't believe in coincidences," Eli replied evenly. "Especially when my wife was approached by the same man, representing the same company, and making the same bullshit offer. Considering that she was targeted for an almost identical attack, I'm sure you can probably guess that she turned him down as well."

"Well shit," Opie muttered wryly as he made eye contact with Jax. It would seem that his best friend had been right to advise that they needed to look into other suspects, instead of solely focusing their attention on Max. "When was that?"

"The Monday after the first attack on the salon." Roosevelt replied.

"Shit!" Lexie exclaimed excitedly. "That asshole left our shop and must have headed straight over to Rita's."

"I think, Ms. Dawson, that we need to discuss this further. Your partner looks a little tired, so why don't we head down to the cafeteria and talk over coffee?" With Lexie nodding her assent, Roosevelt walked around the bed to hold a hand out to Fawn, which she shook with her good one. "You do your best to get some rest, Fawn. I want to you to know that I won't stop until I find out what's going on in my town and those responsible are punished to the fullest extent of the law. No one else in Charming is getting hurt under my watch, understand?"

Fawn nodded her head slightly. "I do, and thank you for that. Please let Rita know how sorry I am."

"I will. She's in the middle of dealing with the insurance adjuster and cleaning up, so it'll probably be a few days, but I'm sure she'll stop by to see you soon." Roosevelt turned to cast a stern eye over the patches. "Gentlemen," He acknowledged as he stepped between them and ushered Lexie out of the room.

---

By the time Eli Roosevelt was done taking notes during his interview of Lexie Dawson, his hand was literally cramped from the effort. He had escorted the young woman to the hospital cafeteria where they sat at a quiet corner table as he grilled her without the Club's interference. Listening intently as she regaled him with stories of all the substantial problems they had endured, the Sheriff was somewhat impressed by the fact that the partners had refused to throw in the towel.

Having this information sooner would have been helpful and at first Roosevelt had been a little skeptical that the partners had never considered that Boland-Howard might be behind the attacks. Talking to Lexie away from the Club, however, convinced Eli that they had been so involved in getting the work done that the young women had not connected the dots until the second attempt to buy them out was made.

Roosevelt was really good at reading body language, a skill that had served him well working with the gangs of Oakland. He could tell that this was information the SAMCRO officers had already been privy to and had hoped to keep to themselves. They were probably in the midst of conducting their own investigation, and Roosevelt could hardly blame them for that. After all, one of their women had been brutally targeted, but so had his wife. This Don Forsyth had a lot to answer for and Eli was determined to find him before the Club did.

In a way, it was strangely comforting to finally make a connection between the attacks on the salon and Rita's shop. With leads quickly petering out, Eli had been toying with the possibility that Mayor Hale had it right all along and that the attacks were some sort of retaliation by proxy against the Sons of Anarchy. It was the last thing he wanted and the last thing the town needed, especially after the ugly incident that had brought him to Charming in the first place four years ago. Mayor Hale had been doggedly pushing him, trying to convince him that what little evidence they had all pointed to SAMCRO's involvement. Unsure how he had made that determination, Roosevelt had been well on his way to believing it nonetheless.

But with this new revelation, the Club's alleged criminal activities no longer put them at the top of the list of prime suspects. Eli recalled the day he had come home from work only to be confronted by an irate wife who went on and on about a suave, but slimy snake oil salesman who offered to buy the shop and wouldn't take no for an answer.

It was surprising and bold behavior on part of the development corporation to target the wife of the commanding officer of the Morada substation in Charming. It spoke volumes of just who they might be dealing with. Roosevelt had to believe that the group must have significant pull in the County if they considered themselves to be so fuckin' untouchable.

The idea of a development corporation coming seemingly out of nowhere into Charming and attempting to buy up its businesses for way below market value sounded like a scam and set off alarms in his mind. The Sheriff had meant what he said when he told Fawn that he would do what he could to protect his town. Charming was his and Rita's home now. It had given his wife the opportunity to own a successful business and the friendships and relationships she had been able to cultivate had made their transition to the small town all that much easier.

To Roosevelt, people like Floyd and Nicky had become more to him than just random people he saw on the street; they were neighbors who cut his hair and made him his lunch everyday. In a town like Charming where everyone knew everyone else, it was further impressed on the officer that he owed it to his neighbors to protect them to the best of his ability.

After the interview, Roosevelt had escorted Lexie back to the ICU. Saying good-bye and thanking her for her time, he turned away and headed for the elevators. The plan was to head over to the station house in order to make some discreet inquiries about Boland-Howard. For some reason, his instincts were telling him to play this new lead close to his chest.

"Interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say?"

Roosevelt looked up to see the SAMCRO President casually walking towards him. He raised his eyebrow as the patch came to a stop directly in his path and eyed him coolly.

"Yes, it is." Roosevelt paused. "Something you want to get off your chest, Teller?"

"Maybe." Jax replied casually.

The SAMCRO Prez had a lot of Intel swirling about in his head and he was trying to figure out the best way to say what he wanted to say without actually saying much or making any sort of commitment.

After Roosevelt had taken Lexie away, he had but a brief moment to talk to Fawn and assure himself of her well-being before his brothers had dropped the bomb regarding the true identity of her attacker. While the patient was taken away for another CAT-Scan with Harry as her escort, the Club's top three quickly kicked around possible scenarios the new Intel suggested. But with Lexie being pressed to give Roosevelt probably a little too much information, Jax realized that the Sheriff would soon be taking a close look at the development corporation which could possibly clue him into Chip Jr.'s involvement, something Opie and Tig did not happening. Neither did Jax, but at the same time, the nagging feeling that something deep and dark was going on in his town was clawing at him.

If his suspicions were true, their regular mode of operation—i.e., killing shit—was not the way to deal with it. Jax had spent the last hour or so contemplating the fact that for the first time since the change in regime in Charming law enforcement, SAMCRO might have to consider the possibility of teaming up with the Sheriffs Department in order to rid the town of a bigger threat. Which was why he found himself standing in front of Lieutenant Roosevelt.

"Looks like with this new information that has fallen into your lap the possibility that there's an outside player involved might be at the forefront of your mind. I'm sure you're smart enough to also take into consideration that this third-party might also be just a distraction." Jax advised non-committaly.

Roosevelt chuckled. "What are you driving at, Teller? Just spit it out."

Jax smirked and shook his head. "I ain't driving at shit, Sheriff. I'm just saying that it seems like we have a common enemy and it may be wiser to go digging around our own backyard first before we root around in other yards that are further away. Whoever is responsible is not only endangering the town, but is hurting its citizens as well. I'm sure the brutality of the attack on Fawn Trager cannot sit right with you."

"Of course it doesn't." Roosevelt snapped.

"Then I think once you examine the situation closely, you'll realize that SAMCRO has always put Charming and its people first. We're not the enemy within, Sheriff. You might want to start by considering just who exactly is the real threat to mom-and-pop businesses in this town. You look deep enough, and you'll realize that threat doesn't come wrapped in leather and riding Harleys. It wears custom-made suits and tools around town in cages worth more money than the majority of people in Charming make in a year. It just makes me wonder how, without a name like Oswald or Hale, that would be possible." Jax advised knowingly before heading back to Fawn's room. "Just saying."

---

Having enjoyed breakfast at a surprisingly good diner in town, Colleen Trager had felt the need to clear her head. Getting into her compact rental car, she headed for the highway to take a long, scenic drive. By the time she noticed the time on the dashboard clock, she was surprised to find herself more than half way to Oakland.

Turning around after stopping for a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes, Colleen spent much of the drive back to Charming contemplating her many ill-fated life choices. According to her co-workers back in Oregon, she had a reputation for being somewhat bi-polar. In the past, Colleen had chosen to believe that they had just been teasing her about being a little bit of a hard ass when it came to dealing with her underlings. Now she was starting to wonder if maybe she really was one of thousands of people who lived their entire lives undiagnosed. It would certainly explain a lot when it came to many of those life choices and her relationship with her two daughters.

Being a nurse, Colleen knew that people expected a certain level of compassion and empathy from her, especially when it came to the patients in her care. Although Colleen didn't think of herself as a hard or unfeeling woman, her goal had always been to provide her patients with the best possible care without allowing herself to become emotionally invested. Along with sore feet and an aching back, bonding with a patient was a job hazard Colleen tried to avoid. Like wearing comfortable shoes and using a heating pad on her back whenever she got the chance to sit down, keeping herself emotionally detached allowed her to do her job efficiently. The fact was, she had seen too many colleagues burn out too soon for caring too much. Colleen had worked too hard and too long to let herself suffer the same fate, so she did what she could to distance herself from any emotional attachments.

Without actually realizing, however, Colleen had allowed a measure of that control, that emotional distance into her relationships with her family, especially with her children. Fawn in particular.

Part of her apathy, Colleen was sure, had to do with the fact that she had never been keen on having children in the first place. Considering that her own mother had been an epic failure at the task herself, Colleen had never really considered herself mother material. Everything changed for her, however, the day Dawn was born.

Although the pregnancy itself had been a surprise, it was practically love at first sight for Colleen the first time she got to hold her firstborn. Mother and daughter had bonded immediately as Colleen threw herself into motherhood full throttle. By that time, Alex had yet to join the Marines, but had been spending a considerable amount of time hanging around the Sons' Tacoma Clubhouse. Although he always continued to provide for them with his meager earnings, the only times he'd come home usually ended with Alex practically having to force her to open her legs for him. Colleen had started to resent those times with her husband, especially when the result was her getting knocked up for a second time.

Colleen tried bonding with infant Fawn, but found it nearly impossible. She had naturally assumed that she would instantly fall in love with her second born like she had with Dawn, yet only felt a slight twinge of guilt when she didn't. Even though many considered her a doting mother as her young daughters thrived under her care, the truth was Colleen knew she had fallen into the trap every parent falls into, but refuses to admit: she favored one child over the other. After the birth of her second child, after it was already too late, Colleen realized she had been right all along about not being mother material, only managing to gather just enough love in her heart for one child. On some level, Colleen knew that Fawn had realized this as well.

For the last couple of days, Colleen had spent most of her free time at her youngest daughter's bed side, much in the way that a good mother would. Although she considered herself as having moved on, coming face-to-face with Alex again after 11 years had moved Colleen enough to dwell on the past and knew that she was witnessing it repeat itself with Fawn.

At 17, Colleen announced to her parents that upon graduating high school she would move to Washington to study at the Seattle University College of Nursing. She hadn't been asking for their input and didn't care what they had to say one way or the other. She had worked too hard academically to turn down a four-year scholarship even if there were plenty of schools in Oregon she could attend. It shouldn't have surprised her, however, that her parents hadn't put up much of a fight. As a matter of fact, they took the news pretty well, confirming once and for all that, even as an only child, she had been more of an inconvenience than a truly treasured member of the family as far as George and Eileen McDonnell were concerned.

With rent ridiculously high in Seattle, Colleen found herself a studio apartment in a working class neighborhood in Tacoma, about a 40 minute commute to her school, and a job working nights at a truck stop diner. For the first six months, Colleen had dutifully gone to school and worked her shitty job, but somewhere along the way she realized that she had actually enjoyed a more active social life back home in Eugene. Determined to change that, Colleen started hanging out after classes at the Student Union instead of rushing home to get a couple of hours of study time in before heading to work.

Young, vibrant and outgoing, Colleen quickly started making friends, including fun-loving city girl Dana Becker. Soon, the two became the best of friends as Dana taught her about make-up, fashion and how to party. Practically overnight, Colleen morphed from a very pretty, but wholesome girl-next-door into a red-headed vixen and they quickly became inseparable as they enjoyed the college party scene together, going so far as to coordinate their class schedules around their social lives.

Finally enjoying her time in Seattle to the fullest, Colleen found herself letting go of her inhibitions with the aid of the free-flowing drinks that always seemed to come her way whenever she and Dana went out. Suddenly, Colleen was the life of the party and because she resisted dating anyone exclusively, she managed to become quite popular in spite of or because of her many conquests. Although she had lost her virginity at 16 in the back seat of her ex-boyfriend's brother's car back home, it hadn't been what she expected. She had been quite disappointed to discover that mediocre sex was the best she could expect and didn't understand its appeal. Or at least that was the case in Eugene. In Tacoma, however, Colleen met a lot of men, not boys, and that had made all the difference in the world. She not only enjoyed sex, but couldn't get enough of it.

Soon, going to class became a burden. Why should she waste her youth and beauty studying anatomy in preparation for a life emptying bed pans? Plus, having to work the crappy shifts the full-time waitresses couldn't be bothered with while trying to avoid being mauled by the truckers that frequented the diner had stopped being fun a long time ago. So without a word to no one, not her parents, not Dana, Colleen dropped out of school and quit her job.

Still just barely legal at 18, Colleen was too young and too pretty to be unemployed for long. She quickly landed a new job working as a cocktail waitress at Rusty's, a bar in a part of town known for its dive bars and strip clubs. The pay was good and the tips even better and so was the atmosphere. Going to work was like partying nightly and life only got more interesting the night she came across her first biker. She had heard a lot about the local MC known as the Sons of Anarchy. With their Clubhouse on the south side in Tacoma's industrial area, where they also ran a scrap metal and fencing business, Colleen had never had the opportunity to come across one before. But her life changed radically once she had.

Although Colleen had heard that the SOA Clubhouse was the place to go if you wanted to party, she had also heard it was by invitation only and Dana didn't surround herself with the types that liked to hang around bikers. Dana's type had leaned towards the pretty college boys who drank a lot of beer and wanted you to blow them in front of their friends. Little did Dana—and Colleen, for that matter—know that bikers really weren't that much different from baseball cap-wearing frat boys.

The leather-clad biker that had walked into Rusty's that night so long ago looked rough and dangerous and even though he wasn't particularly good-looking, he was charismatic. The brawny biker had taken one look at the leggy redhead in her uniform, a black tank top with a plunging neckline, black mini-skirt that stopped just under her ass and four inch heels, and moved fast to stake a claim by chatting her up and flirting shamelessly. After her shift was over, Colleen headed out to the parking lot to discover the bearded biker waiting for her. Patting the bitch seat on the back of his ride with a large hand covered in silver rings, he had given her a "come hither" look and that was all it took. By the time Colleen realized what she was doing, she had jumped onto his bike with all the giddy glee of a child being taken to a party. Feeling the powerful engine of the Harley ripping through her muscles as she clung to his back, Colleen knew that her life was about to change again.

Within two months, Colleen had become not only a regular at the Tacoma Clubhouse, but one of its most sought-after sweetbutts. Although she had to claw and fight her way through a throng of Club women and work her way through the ranks of Club members, eventually, Colleen was one of only a handful of girls that could pick and choose among the patches. It wasn't unusual for the brothers to fight over her and Colleen loved the attention and thoroughly enjoyed being showered with money and perks because she was in such high demand. For a while, it even looked like she had a good chance of making the rare leap from sweetbutt to old lady. Then something happened that changed all that.

Colleen Catherine McDonnell meet Alexander Trager, the man she would marry and grow to love and hate with equal amounts of passion.

Alex had been young, wild and crazy and Colleen had loved that about him. He also packed some serious heat in those crotch-hugging jeans he favored back then and had probably been the best fuck she'd ever had in her life. He hadn't been a member of the Club when they first hooked up and although Colleen had been on her way to landing a high-ranking member of the Tacoma charter as an old man, she couldn't deny her attraction for Alex. He had been a hang-around, not even a Prospect yet, but Colleen didn't care. They fell hard for each other and within a few months of meeting, Alex had knocked her up. Before she knew it, Colleen was married with a baby on the way.

They probably could have made a decent go of it, had not Alex enlisted with the Marines for the medical benefits and slightly higher pay. He returned to Tacoma after several tours of duty in the Middle East and South America a changed man, someone she hardly recognized. Her father, a WWII vet, would say Alex had been shell-shocked. Nowadays, what he would have been diagnosed with was PTSD—Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. After receiving a medical discharge for what would become known simply as the "Goat Incident of 1987", Alex spent much of his time away from home, looking for distractions that would chase whatever demons he had brought home with him. Eventually, he fell in again with SAMTAC, this time as a Prospect, and in about a year became a full-fledged member. As far as Colleen was concerned, that had been the beginning of the end.

Having distanced herself from her sweetbutt past, Colleen was now a young mother of two young daughters working a series of dead-end jobs. Even though she could have used a distraction herself, she stayed away from the Clubhouse. Knowing exactly what her husband was up to on the nights he didn't come home, namely taking up with anyone and anything as long as she had two sets of lips he could wrap around his impressive cock, Colleen grew resentful and bitter in her marriage. Soon, arguments about money and living in a shitty one bedroom apartment grew even uglier when Alex all but stopped trying to hide the fact that he was fucking around on her.

So it would be an understatement to say that she completely lost her shit when her old man announced that he was jumping charters and moving them to Charming. Colleen had gone bat-shit crazy. Even though she was tempted to believe that nothing could be worse than the shit hole they called home at the time, Colleen would be damned if she was going to let Alex relocate them to some sleepy backwater town in Northern California. When Alex set off to Charming to get settled before moving his family down, Colleen realized that it was time to make another radical change in her life.

Suddenly longing for the rolling hills and quiet life of Oregon, Colleen planned her next move. With her parents growing older, she knew it was only a matter of time when they would need assistance and became dependent on their only child. Before that happened, Colleen decided to make the most of whatever free childcare her parents could provide—along with room and board for Colleen and her daughters—in order to go back to school and finish what she had started and so foolishly had left behind.

Once she was back in Eugene, nothing her old man said could convince her to leave. Having to live under her parents' roof again had been a bitter pill to swallow, but she would have done anything to make sure she wouldn't need Alex anymore. Her old man had resisted the idea of separating—if only for his daughters' sake—and was determined to drag her ass down to Charming. It had taken making some very bold threats to convince him that she believed that they were better off dead than living with him again. Colleen had tried convincing herself that she had made an empty threat, but the truth was she had been at her breaking point and, pushed hard enough, she just might have gone through with her threats.

In the end, Colleen ultimately came to believe that she had done what was best for the girls. The last thing she wanted was to expose them to an environment that would enable them to make the same mistakes she had and end up as someone's biker whore.

But it happened anyway, Colleen thought grimly, as she parked her car in the hospital lot. Slamming the car door behind her, she made her way into St. Thomas. I guess blood tells after all.

---

"I don't fuckin' believe this," Fawn sputtered as she looked into the folds of brightly-colored tissue paper inside the sparkly gift bag sitting on her lap as her old man looked on quizzically. "You're fuckin' crazy, Gem."

"Really?" Gemma drawled as she stood on the other side of Fawn's bed, her arms crossed over her chest. "You're just figuring that out now?"

"Yeah, little girl. I could have filled you in on that shit a long time ago." Neeta chimed in from the chair she occupied as she shook her head wryly. "I told her that was a completely inappropriate get well gift."

"It is not!" Her former employer shot back. "To my way of thinking, it makes perfect sense."

"Maybe for your ass, but as we have already established, you're crazy." Neeta sighed dramatically as she eyed Fawn. "You could have at least given the child something she would be able to make use of sooner rather than later like I did."

Fawn cast a smile over at the plump woman. "And I really do appreciate it, Neeta, although I don't want you to go to any trouble for me."

"Child, please. Doing what I can to help you out when you get out of this place is the least I can do." Neeta grinned. She had figured that offering to pitch in to take care of Fawn while she was convalescing would be well received. "Besides, I gotta do my part to fatten you up a little. I've known your old man for years, and he ain't too fond of women he can break over his knee."

"She's right about that, babe." Opie grinned as his woman tossed him a mock glare. "And I really appreciate your offer too. Fawn's going to need a lot of looking after."

Looking at his old lady and seeing her alive and smiling through the pain was the best gift anyone could have given him. All he could hope for was that Fawn had a similar constitution as her father and that she would heal quickly. And Opie was determined to do whatever was necessary to speed that process along.

Since Fawn had come to, her hospital room had been a hub of activity. With visitors streaming in and out all morning and into the early afternoon, Dr. Shay had ordered the nurses to strictly enforce the policy of only two visitors at a time in order to give Fawn a chance to rest. The Club, however, knew how to find its way around rules and managed to sneak in easily enough, as was the case right now.

With her room overflowing with flowers, stuffed animals and small gifts, Fawn didn't mind the constant traffic through her room. She had plenty of time to rest while unconscious and the last thing she wanted to do was sleep and happily encouraged the visits. The girls from the salon had already stopped by and Jolene Teller would come straight to the hospital after her last class, along with several more old ladies. The outpouring of love and support she was getting from her new family just confirmed to Fawn what a blessing it had been to open her heart to Opie Winston. Apparently, the SAMCRO VP was a package deal and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Turning his attention back to the conversation, Opie grinned as the three women continued to talk and bicker.

"I still can't believe you brought this in here." Fawn marveled.

"Hey, Ma, good looking out. I hope it's red." Opie interjected, a lecherous grin on his face as he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Red?" His old lady eyed him. "What the hell do you think is in here?"

"Hopefully, some really kinky underwear." He smirked. "It's just a shame that its gonna be a while before you can model it for me."

"Humph!" Neeta snarked. "Oh she's gonna need you to use it all right, but it ain't what you thinking. At least Gemma's not re-gifting it 'cause Lord knows she's got plenty of them. She had Clay to get it for her special."

"What?!" The VP was confused and just a little pissed as the image of his former President holding a delicate red thong in his burly hands invaded his brain. "Babe, what's in the fuckin' bag?" He asked exasperated.

"Better that I show you." Fawn replied as she eyed her now suspicious outlaw. Craning her head towards the door to make sure that the window in it was blocked by her old man's powerful frame, she shoved her good hand into the bag and pulled out the small object that fit quite comfortably in the palm of her hand.

"What do you think, baby?" Fawn held up the silver and black Colt .22 caliber semi-automatic pistol in a Charlie's Angels pose. "It's not kinky underwear, but do I look fuckin' hot or what?" She would have burst out laughing if her ribs could have taken the assault.

Opie turned to meet Gemma's sparkling and mischievous brown eyes with his own green ones. "Ma, are you fuckin' insane—"

"See?" Neeta hooted. "I told you you was crazy!"

Opie continued "—bringing that shit in here?" Neeta slumped back in her chair with her mouth wide open.

You know, sometimes I just forget I'm surrounded by a bunch of crazy ass white people.

"I wasn't going to leave it with her." The SAMCRO matriarch replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I figured you could take it home with you and when her wrist heals you can teach her how to use it. It's just big enough to do the job, but it shouldn't beat up her hand too badly." Gemma sighed. "It's just too damn bad she didn't have one on her that night."

"I know," Opie said quietly. "I just never thought—" He sighed, frustrated with himself for not providing his old lady with a weapon to protect herself.

Donna had never been interested in owning or learning how to use a gun and it had just never occurred to him to ask Fawn how she felt about it. His best friend used to take Jolene out to the streams for target practice all the time and she owned several legally licensed guns, even though she never actually carried one. While he was grateful to Gemma and Clay for being so thoughtful, Opie realized that his lack of foresight on this matter had been irresponsible of him.

Seeing the look on his face, Fawn realized that her outlaw was beating himself up unnecessarily and moved quickly to put his mind at ease. "Come here, Redwood." Fawn said softly. As he made his way towards the bed, she put the gun back into the gift bag. "You did everything you could to protect me, Ope. I was the one who fought you every step of the way and I paid the price for not trusting you. I won't ever make that mistake again." She caressed his bearded cheek as he wrapped his arms around her. "I have to say, giving my crazy ass a gun might be a big mistake, but I'd love to have you teach me how to use it."

It sure as shit would have come in handy that night, Fawn said to herself as she thought about the asswipe she knew was now living on borrowed time. Although Opie had not said as much, she knew that soon there would be a group of leather-clad men sitting around a Redwood table planning retaliation against the man that had dared to do harm to someone under SAMCRO's protection.

Nuzzling the side of her face, Opie was about to reply when the door to the room suddenly opened.

"Well," Colleen said quietly. "I see that you're finally awake."

---

For a moment, the room was completely silent. For Neeta, sitting in the far corner of the room as an outside observer, it was almost as if a dark cloud had fallen over everyone.

As her blue eyes met her mother's determined green ones, Fawn inwardly winced. She had been bouncing between looking forward to seeing her mother and dreading their reunion. Not speaking to Colleen for nearly four months, it had come as a great surprise to hear that her mother was in Charming. Colleen had actually come to surprise Fawn for the grand opening. She actually had to keep reminding herself of that as she said a quick prayer that shit between her and her mother not blow up in her face.

But if her face is anything to go by, it looks like Colleen came ready for a fight, Fawn thought, suddenly weary as she realized that she really wasn't in the best frame of mind to deal with her mother's legendary temper. Unfortunately, there was no help for it, but the last thing she wanted was her mother to embarrass her in front of her family, so she figured it was best to make the introductions quick and get rid of everyone so that she could handle the ensuing drama.

"Hey, Mom." She greeted quietly. "You know me, right? Always have to drag shit out. It was almost like making a big entrance."

"Yes, I guess you always did have a flair for the dramatic." Colleen replied evenly. Walking over to the bed, she nodded to the giant patch, who stepped aside so that she could greet her daughter. Bending down, Colleen placed a brief kiss on her daughter's cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. I was driving around, trying to clear my head. I got the message at the hotel that you were awake and came right over. I guess I lost track of time."

"That's not totally surprising. You must have been frantic with worry." Gemma retorted, her slightly sarcastic tone unnoticeable to everyone except Fawn. Colleen turned to face the SAMCRO matriarch as she held out her hand. "It's been a long time, Colleen."

As far Gemma was concerned it wasn't long enough. The last time she'd had contact with Fawn's mother was when a niggling suspicion regarding Fawn had pushed her to call Colleen in Oregon. She had smelled a fuckin' rat when Dawn had shown up out of the blue in Charming claiming that her sister had fallen off the wagon and needed to go to rehab. Gemma had been right and Colleen had confirmed that Fawn was fine. Something else had, at the time, bothered the SAMCRO matriarch about Colleen's overall response, but she had pushed it aside, too intent on trying to stop Tig from being snookered by his own kin, something that she had not been able to do.

"Gemma," Colleen replied, hesitating before shaking her hand as she eyed the older woman. She had to admit that Jackie had not been exaggerating. Gemma looked more than good for her age. The last time she had seen her in person had been before Dawn was born. She remembered thinking how glad she was that Gemma wasn't a SAMTAC old lady. As the old lady of not one, but two national presidents, Gemma felt entitled to interfere and wasn't the type of woman that allowed shit to happen in her Club unless she knew about it. Colleen was sure that she hadn't changed much at all.

Fawn quickly introduced another woman in the room to her and although Colleen was polite, she barely concealed the fact that she wasn't really interested at all in meeting anyone. Fawn gritted her teeth behind her lips. Her mother had a very perfunctory way of dealing with people. Colleen was making it abundantly clear that she had little interest in anyone else in the room, especially as she could barely conceal her animosity towards the lone man in the room.

But Fawn was not about to sweep the love of her life under the fuckin' carpet, least of all for her mother's sake. "Mom, if you haven't already met him, this is Opie Winston," Fawn paused and continued with a defiant and proud tone in her voice. "My old man."

"We've met." Came Colleen's short reply, her emerald green eyes refusing to meet Opie's in acknowledgment of his presence. Obviously, no one had bothered to mention her introduction to SAMCRO or the fact that Colleen had made her feelings about her daughter's involvement with the man towering over her abundantly clear.

"Mrs. Trager," Opie said by way of greeting, refusing to be dismissed as nothing more than an annoyance. He was Fawn's old man and nothing was going to change that. Colleen Trager was mistaken if she thought that a few well-aimed barbs at his expense the first time they met would chase him away. He was a big boy and he'd come up against worse than Tig's bitterly crazy ex.

Although he still simmered with anger after their first encounter, the last thing Opie wanted was to upset his Big Red by causing her anymore stress, nor was it necessary for her to defend him to her mother, which he was certain she would jump at the chance to do. "Maybe we should step outside and give you two some time alone." Opie offered as he eyed Fawn. At her nod of consent, he motioned for Gemma and Neeta to leave the room. "I'll be right outside in the waiting room if you need me, baby." He advised after kissing Fawn tenderly on the forehead.

Colleen tossed her handbag at the foot of Fawn's bed and pulled a chair closer to her daughter's side before sitting down. She waited for the door to close behind the biker before she spoke. "Well, he certainly seems to be protective of you. Too bad he's just a tad too late."

Fawn sighed heavily. "Really, Mom? That's how we're starting this conversation after not speaking for nearly four months?"

"Well, what choice have you left me, Fawn?" Her mother retorted. "Maybe you may have forgotten, but I haven't. I warned you that coming to Charming was a mistake that would have serious consequences for you. Now look where you've ended up, in a hospital bed after almost dying because of your connection with that Godforsaken MC."

"Okay, first off, nothing you could have said was gong to stop me from coming to Charming. Both you and Dawn chose not to be bothered by being by Dad's side after he nearly died. That was on you, and I won't take you to task for it, but I wasn't going to let him leave this world without saying what I needed to say."

"Two things will survive a nuclear holocaust, Fawn. Cockroaches and your father." Colleen retorted condescendingly. "Dying would be too good for him."

Giving her mother a dead-eye glare, Fawn bit her tongue so hard she could actually taste blood. She was all too familiar with Colleen and how she operated in trying to get a rise out of her. In spite of still being in pain, Fawn was in a happy place in her life and refused to give her mother the satisfaction of getting to her. "Dad needed help and I'm glad I was here for him, just like he was there for me when I needed him most."

Colleen made a disgusted sound as she rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly.

Ignoring her, Fawn continued. "And you're dead wrong about the Club. SAMCRO's not responsible for what happened to me."

"Ha! And you really believe that, don't you?" Colleen mocked as she crossed her arms under her chest. "Shit, that Winston boy must be hung in proportion to his size and I'm sure he's laying that pipe just right too, enough for you not to see what's right in front of your face."

Fawn smiled sardonically. "Hey, I've got no complaints in that department. You're right. He's hung like a horse and knows exactly what to do with it. But all that aside, my eyes are wide open, Mom."

Colleen crossed her leg over her knee as she looked at her daughter with a mixture of anger and sympathy. "You think they are, but they're not. Your father has had you sipping on that MC Kool-Aid since you were a child. Your knight in shining leather on a steel and chrome horse. I used to think that of your father too, a very long time ago. You know what woke me up? Living a shitty, miserable life while raising two small children practically on my own as my old man whored around. And you're stupid if you think it only happens on runs. You stick around long enough and you're going to learn the hard way that you're nothing but a piece of meat to these men. Your old man included."

Fawn eyed her mother as she reached for the bottle of water on the table and took a sip. Not only was her throat dry, but she needed to get the taste of blood out of her mouth. If Colleen kept this up, Dr. Shay might end up having to reattach her severed tongue.

Holding on to her composure, Fawn started calmly. "I was there, Mom, so I'll be the first one to agree that Dad wasn't a fuckin' saint—"

"Well, thank you!" Colleen scoffed. "I guess that's something."

"But you weren't perfect either. Oh no, not by a long shot." Fawn retorted, raising her good hand to stop the words that were about to fall out of Colleen's open mouth. "You're always talking about all these sacrifices you made for me and Dawn, but did it ever occur to you that maybe it was Dawn and me that were making the sacrifices?"

"Oh, please! Money may have been a little tight while I was going to school, but you girls never wanted for anything." Colleen claimed, brushing Fawn off.

"Except for our parents." Fawn replied soberly. She could see her mother's jaw click with tension as she stared at Fawn as if she had just sprouted a second head.

"So, what now? Your father filling your head with fuckin' fairy tales about how we could have lived happily ever after had we come to live in this Podunk town?" Colleen squeaked out in a high-pitched voice. "I'm always the bad one, aren't I? Your father hung the fuckin' moon, but I'm always the baddie."

"I didn't say that, Mom," Fawn said calmly. "But at least Dad owns up to the mistakes he's made. He can't make up for all the lost years, but at least he's trying. God knows he's not perfect and sometimes I want to choke the shit out of him, but I don't because I know he's trying."

Colleen shook her head, her eyes large wet pools of self-pity. "You have no idea what I went through with that man and you expected me to make shit work because you wanted your parents together?!"

"Hell's no!" Fawn nearly shouted. "You're not listening. I was there and I may have been young, but I remember how bad it was between the two of you. But none of that concerned Dawn and me. We just wanted and needed both of our parents around. You didn't have to move to Charming, but you could have let us visit him like he wanted us to every once in a while."

"Yeah, right. I was just going to send my young and impressionable daughters down to live in some dirty Clubhouse while they visited their father." Colleen said sarcastically.

"No, I'm sure we would have stayed with Dad at his house." Fawn replied.

For a moment, Colleen was nonplussed. "The only permanent address your father's ever had in Charming is the Teller-Morrow garage. What house are you talking about? "

"I'm talking about the two bedroom house that sat empty for years while Dad waited for his family. He got it six months after coming to Charming. He said he brought it for us, and by us he meant you too, Mom."

Colleen was speechless. A house? Alex bought me a house?

"From the outside looking in, Dad and I don't have the perfect father-daughter relationship, but what we do have now works for us. I realize that, even though we spent so many years apart, the old man and I are a lot a like," Fawn smiled sadly. "And maybe that's why you and I don't get along so well. I remind you too much of the man that caused you so much pain, but that's okay. I've come to accept that I can get what I need emotionally from others," She smiled as she thought about Tina. "And there's nothing wrong with that, but you need to stop trying to rewrite history to lay all the bad shit at Dad's feet. I love you both, but I'm determined to learn from the mistakes you two made. I'm not letting go of my family here in Charming for anyone or anything."

Colleen shook her head dismally. "I understand that you've always been a Daddy's Little Girl, Fawn and if you were turning your life upside down to be closer to your father, more power to you. God knows you're going to need it. But you're throwing away everything you have in Seattle—a trendy job, a fabulous apartment and a years-long relationship with Max for Opie Winston and this?" She held out her hands to encompass the room. "That man is not only responsible for what happened to you, but for the death of his first wife—"

"Whoa!" Fawn managed to shout with great effort, causing her sides to ache thanks to her broken ribs. She needed to take a deep breath, but that would only cause her even more pain. "You don't know shit about Opie and his late wife."

"I know enough! Jackie told me—"

"Jackie was probably repeating old rumors, innuendo and dirty gossip, Mom, so you need to tread very carefully with me when talking about my old man." Fawn's deep blue eyes sparked with suppressed fury. "Opie Winston has given me more in a few short months than Max ever did in almost six years. He loves me exactly as I am and, like my father, I am far from perfect. For the first time in my life I have someone that can see beyond his own needs to put me first. He has supported me every step of the way and encouraged me to keep going when shit got tough. He has a wonderful family—a sweetheart of a mom and two amazing kids who love me as much as I love them.

"I know you look at me and think what a disappointment I've been to you. After all, I'm an ex-junky who does hair for a living and who's now shacking up with a heavily tattooed biker in some backwater town. My life seems far from perfect to you and I can accept that, but you need to understand that the choices I have made in my life have made me who I am today and I don't think I've turned out so bad," Fawn shrugged one shoulder. "But I can't convince you of that. That's something you need to learn on your own and the only way to do that is by being a part of my life, like Dad. What you see is what you get, Mom. Now it's all up to you to decide if that will ever be enough."

---

A/N: Judging by the number of reviews I received for the last chapter, it seems that a lot of you forgot all about dear ol' Chip Jr.! I wasn't aiming to throw you a curveball, but I also didn't want to go down the obvious jealous psycho boyfriend route that has been run into the ground it's been used so much. A mystery Guest did guess it was Chip right away, but didn't sign in and I can't give them proper credit. There were some pretty interesting guesses, like Venetiangrl92 who suggested that it was Sasha, Fawn's old boss. I liked that and almost wish I had thought of it, but I really do like how this Chip arc is working out.

Even though the Club now knows the identity of Fawn's attacker, they still have their work cut out for them. Although Roosevelt has made the connection between the attacks on local businesses and the development corporation, he doesn't know about Chip Jr.'s involvement. Yet. Now it's up to SAMCRO to get to Chip Jr. before Roosevelt becomes privy to that information.

I want to apologize to everyone that submitted a review for the last chapter. I know I promised a preview, but every now and then real life has a way of making its presence known and I had a series of issues to deal with that chased my muse away.

But I plan to make it up to everyone!

I am not offering a preview this week in order to prepare a really special one-shot that I hope to launch very soon. In the meantime, please let me know what your thoughts on this chapter are. I know it was pretty meaty and long, but with the story almost over, I want to make sure it ends as well as it started. I for one know how disappointing good stories with sloppy endings can be, so please bear with me as I work to make it a good one.

Thanks for your support!

—Harlee