Chapter 11:
"Because when you love someone very much, it's difficult to learn to share her with someone else."
―Fredrik Backman, My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry
I couldn't count how many cops were flooding the clubhouse right now and I wasn't about to move an inch from the spot I stopped in because there were currently 2 guns pointed on me. The feds seemed to be more interested in apprehending the Sons because Dad and Tig were currently face down at either of my sides, getting handcuffs put on them. I couldn't see Happy from the corner of my eye, but 3 of the armored officers have gone to where he had his tattoo station setup and it sounded like they were having a little trouble getting him restrained. I didn't know if more Sons were in the clubhouse, but the cops seemed to be swarming the place.
"Dad..." I called, unsure about what the hell was going on.
"It's alright, dovey." I chanced a glance at him and saw that he was getting hauled up with Tig, but they were laughing.
A golden-blonde woman came in and unlike all the other law officials, she was dressed in business attire with her black slacks, white collared shirt and heels. Her steel-blue eyes seemed very observant and after scanning the room, she smirked as she tugged a black jacket on. There were bold, yellow letters on the right side: ATF. She had a pretty smug look on her face and when her eyes landed on me, she took me in from head to toe.
"Pretty little thing, but a bit young for your liking, isn't she, gentlemen?" She asked and a handful of officers brought Dad, Tig, Quinn and Happy to my left. They weren't smiling or laughing anymore, their glares were chilling. "Gunrunning's one thing, but statutory rape too? There are just no limits to the Men of Mayhem, are there?"
"Can I crack this bitch in the face?" Tig asked, turning to Dad, and he was glaring something godawful at the blonde. "I've never wanted to backhand a bitch so much in my entire life. Just one time, that's all I'm askin'."
"Get in line, brother." Dad rasped, his eyes dangerously locked on the AFT woman and she just smiled at the men. "I'm gonna be the first one stuffin' this gash's head down the fuckin' toilet."
"Now that everyone's expressed their love for me, line 'em up outside." The woman instructed and the cops did as they were ordered, hauling the Sons outside. The woman took a pair of handcuffs from one of the passing policemen and began to cuff me. Once they were on, her hand went around my tattooed shoulder and made me hiss in pain.
"Watch it, ya' fuckin' bawbag!" I snapped, jerking my arm out of her hold and glaring at the ATF agent. Right now, I wouldn't give a shit if she was the National Guard. I realized that I probably sounded like Dad when I cursed and I used an obscenity from his culture. I don't think he knew it, but I learned quite a few nasty words from listening to he and Rose arguing all the time.
The blonde cocked an eyebrow, but was smirking as she tried to look taken aback by my expletives. She looked like the sneaky type and right now, I had a bad feeling she was plotting something.
"What do you know, the Scot as a tot." She smiled and switched to my other side, gently grabbing my elbow as she guided me outside.
The first thing I noticed when we were outside was that the huge truck Quinn parked was missing from the lot; Piney and Kip were missing too. Gemma was standing next to one of the many police cars on the lot with a cop who looked to be in higher ranking than the ones flooding the clubhouse. He was young though, short dark-brown hair, baby-blues and I could see how muscular he was through his uniform shirt. I turned to the office when I heard Happy calling someone a bitch and he was forced on the ground with the rest of the Sons. The ATF woman led me to the line where the Sons were and set me down in my butt at the end, next to a laughing Jax.
"Robert Musnon, Juan Carlos Ortiz, Happy Lowman..." The blonde said as she went down the line of Sons, pointing to each one. I leaned forward to look down the line and cocked an eyebrow at Juan Carlos. He shot me a pleading look back that convinced me not to pick at him about his name. "Harry Winston, Alexander Trager, Filip Telford, Rane Quinn, Jackson Teller and...this little angel with such a clean mouth."
"You're pushing your luck, bitch." I warned and the Sons, as a rowdy bunch, oohed and catcalled at my comment. The woman gave me another one of those treacherous smiles, but her head turned to the office and Clay was getting escorted over here.
"And you must be Clarence Morrow, the ringleader and owner of Teller-Morrow Automotive."
"Looks like I've got an admirer, boys. Ain't that sweet?" He smiled at the Sons on the ground, who were busy blowing kisses or aww-ing, then set his eyes on the ATF agent. "I didn't catch you name."
"ATF agent June Stahl. I hope you didn't have any plans because we're going on a little getaway, Clay."
"Sorry, darlin'. I'm a happily married man. If you're looking for a good time, Bobby boy can give you everything you need."
"Guy's got a dick as long as a hoagie roll hiding under his gut." Jax joked and the Sons laughed, but their chortles were cut short when Agent Stahl led Clay to one of the nearby squad cars.
"You gonna bother mentioning a charge?" He asked and his tone reminded me of the one he used when I had a gun to his gut.
"No charges yet. I just need to discuss your relationship with a Nate Meineke." The Agent explained and I heard a few quiet curses from the lineup.
"Who?" Clay asked, dumbfounded, and Agent Stahl smirked.
"Nate Meineke." She repeated. "He's one of the men who held up a prison transport vehicle this morning, killed three people with AK-47s. We found Mr. Meineke's cell phone at the scene. Last call he received was from your garage. Front or back?" She motioned to the black car behind her.
"Lady's choice." Clay replied and Stahl smiled, opening the back door.
"Tattoos and chivalry, what a delicious combination. You're wife must be a very lucky woman." Agent Stahl tucked Clay into the backseat of the tinted car, went around it and got in the back next to him. I saw the President glance at his members on the ground and he shared a long look with Jax before the car was pulling out of the lot.
It took another half-hour, but the rest of the feds cleared out of the clubhouse and off the property, unshackling the Sons and myself. The first thing everyone did was go into the clubhouse to inspect what damage had been done and I cringed when I saw the messy state of the bar. Nothing looked broken, but all the furniture was overturned or across the room. The doors of the Chapel were opened and I got to see the inside of the private room. Like the bar, the walls were covered in Sons of Anarchy decorations and there was a huge table flipped on it's side. Like the decal on the Sons' kuttes and Opie and Jax's backs, the Reaper was carved into the wood and I stared at it long enough to stamp it in my memory. I was definitely going to draw that. It looked so threatening and cruel, but there was something else about that Reaper that made me feel safe.
The men started cleaning up the bar and I heard Jax tell someone to call Kip and round up some sweetbutts to help with the mess. I followed him back to the dorms and was relieved to see that John's bike was untouched. Jax's door was the only one that was opened and it looked like his door was kicked in. His room looked worse than the bar and I stood in the middle of the mess with him, looking over the clutter. There was a smell in the air though, something that reminded me of a chemical.
"Is it just me or do you smell piss too?" Jax asked and my face scrunched at what someone did in here. He looked at his closet, where all his clothes were pulled out and in a pile, huffing at it. I saw the dark stain on one of his lighter shirts and knew that one of those pigs pissed on his stuff.
"I'll wash your clothes at home, just drop 'em off." I offered and Jax started rummaging around the desk, looking for something.
"We've got a washer and dryer here, back past the bathroom." After going though all the drawers, Jax felt around the underside of the desk and sighed. He pulled out a thick stack of papers and went to sit on the edge of his pull-out. Tempted, I sat next to him and examined the faded yellow stack of papers in his hands. It looked like someone wrote this with a typewriter.
The Life and Death of Sam Crow
How the Sons of Anarchy Lost Their Way
By John Teller
"What's this?" I asked Jax, curious. It had something to do with the club for sure, but I still didn't understand what it was. It almost looked like a manual from John. Maybe it was how he wanted Jax to run the club when he was President and warnings on not making the same mistakes he did.
"Something JT left when he died, a load of shit is what it is." Jax dismissed and flung the stack across the floor, halfway into a trash bin that was on its side. He ran his hands over his face and sighed. "I'll bag up my clothes. There should be soap and stuff in the laundry room. Thanks, Marci."
I nodded and seeing how Jax looked like he had a lot on his plate, I gave him a hug. This raid and Clay getting taken in for questioning had to be a huge load for him and I'm pretty sure he's been promoted to President until Clay's out of police custody. I wish I could help him, and the Sons, with this mess because I wasn't unfamiliar to being interrogated and I wouldn't crack easily, but it was obvious that they were keeping me out of their internal affairs.
Jax hugged me back and I heard him sigh into my hair. If I didn't know he was stressed before, I definitely knew he was now. I could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. I was glad I gave him a moment of peace though. When Jax pulled away, he smiled at me and gave me a peck on the cheek. I heard someone knock at the door and turned to see Kip standing there, eyes downcast.
"The girls got the bar cleaned up." Kip brought his eyes up and set them on the Vice President.
"Not one of them in the Chapel." Jax reminded and Kip nodded. "How'd things with Piney go?"
"I think you should talk with him." Kip's eyes flicked over to me and Jax glanced at me. He still had an arm around my shoulder, but he didn't let it drop when he turned back to Kip, nodding. "Gemma went down to the station with Tig to see when Clay can be released."
"Good work, kid. Keep an eye on her." Jax stood and tugged me up with him. He used the arm around me to pull me in for another hug and thanked me before he left his room.
I looked over at the pile of soiled clothes and started heading out, giving Kip's hand a little squeeze as I went by. Like he said, the bar was put together again and there were Crow Eaters finishing everything up by sweeping, re-positioning the wall decorations or easing the stress of the Sons by rubbing their shoulders. I saw the boxes of trashbags and gloves on the bar and grabbed a few bags, tugging a pair of the purple gloves on. I went into the kitchen next and found a box of baking soda in the fridge. Going back to Jax's room, I saw a few more doors opened and Juice poked his head out of his door before we passed.
"Hey, Marci." He smiled and I cocked an eyebrow because he seemed a little too happy to see me. "Wanna make a quick 20 bucks?"
"By doing what?" Juice stepped out of his dorm and had a circular, plastic laundry basket in his hands that was filled with clothes, mainly dirty socks. I could smell the pile from here and I waved the stench of stale feet away from my nose. "Do you not know how to use a washing machine?"
"Gemma said I'm not allowed to 'cause I set the dryer on fire last time."
"Fine, but you're gonna have to pay me extra for those crusty socks."
"35?"
"Deal." Juice beamed at me and gave me the basket, digging into his pocket for my pay. Kip said he'd grab Jax's clothes and I pulled the gloves off my hands for him to use, giving him the trash bags.
Kip and I parted ways and like Jax said, there was a door past the bathroom that revealed a laundry room. There were 3 sets of matching red washers and dryers and a folding table with detergent, fabric softener or dryer sheets lined on one side. I figured Gemma was the only one who did the Sons' laundry and I don't know how she managed to wash all these mens' clothes without going insane.
I separated Juice's clothes in whites, darks, jeans and his underwear and socks in piles in front of the first washer. The biggest pile was his dark clothes, so they went in the wash first and Kip came in with a bag of Jax's stuff. From the look on his face, he got a whiff of the soiled clothes. After dividing Jax's clothes, his whites got a lot of bleach on them and his other clothes were waiting in front of his washer. I went over to the folding table and sat on it, somehow being calmed by the humming of the machines as they cleaned.
Kip was leaning on the wall next to the door and I beckoned him to come over. I noticed the uncertainty or reluctance he had before he trudged over here and leaned on the table.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Fine." He muttered back and I frowned at how bland his tone was.
"You weren't like this when we were at my house." I prodded, hating how he wasn't even looking at me, and he shrugged. "Out with it. What bit you in the ass?"
"I didn't know you and Jax were...something." He murmured, his arms crossing. I was grateful to finally know what he was upset about, but I was taken aback by what he just said. I thought he was just stressed about what happened today, but I heard the distaste in his voice...was he jealous? "I should've expected it to happen." He continued, a self-chiding tone in his voice. "Jax has his patches and he's VP. He's wanted you since the first day you came here. I saw how happy you looked when you guys were at the bar and he took you back to his dorm, then I obviously interrupted something earlier. I don't know why I thought I ever stood a chance..."
"Nothing happened when Jax took me to his dorm. I was buzzed and he let me crash in his room." I ticked off the most important figure on his list and that made Kip finally look at me. His ocean-blue eyes didn't have that joyous sparkle in them as they did earlier either. They were clouded with doubt and dejection. "What you saw earlier was me trying to make him feel better 'cause a ton of weight just dropped on his shoulders and he gave me a peck on the cheek as a sign of gratitude. I'm not interested in Jax or his patch and I'm pretty sure he's just poking fun with me. The guy's gotta baby and a girlfriend lined up, what would he want with me?"
"...I feel like an ass now." Kip half-chuckled, but he did look embarrassed. His hand went to the back of his neck and he nervously rubbed it, glancing at me with apologetic eyes. "Sorry about that...I'm just used to the others getting to all the girls before me or stealing one away from me. Not that I think of you as some easy whore or anything." He hastily blurted out that last bit and I smirked at it, but it faded.
"...it's pretty dumb to get jealous over something that's not even yours to begin with..." I muttered and heard one of the machines buzz. Without looking at Kip, I slid off the counter and began unloading Juice's dark clothes into the dryer, tossing a few dryer sheets in with the bunch. When I turned around to load his batch of jeans into the washer, Kip was standing in front of me and his eyebrows were etched together in confusion, so I figured he heard what I said. "I don't understand why you were mad about me hanging with Jax. What's wrong with me getting some male attention? I'm old enough and it's not like I've got a boyfriend."
"What about..." Kip trailed off and he had a faint flush on his cheeks, but I was waiting for him to say what was on his mind. "What happened at Fun Town? A-and when we came back and at your house, I-I thought...aren't we..."
Kip sighed and took a step away from me to run his hands over his face. While he was getting himself together, I started loading Juice's jeans into the washer, emptying out his pockets before tossing the pants into the machine. Other than a few stray dollars, I found some unopened condoms, candy wrappers and a dime bag of pot. Once that was finished, Jax's whites were done and I loaded his underwear. I tugged myself up on the vibrating machine and was quietly giggling at the tremors on my butt. I felt like I was sitting in a massage chair.
When I looked up, Kip looked like he just took a reassuring breath and he turned around to face me. Slowly, he made his way in front of me and he was leaning in, obviously wanting a kiss, but I turned my head away and he backed off.
"You can't keep doing that." I censured, pinning my eyes on his. "You can't just kiss me whenever you want and not explain it and leave me wondering what to do with these leftover feelings...I'm not going through that again." The last bit came out in a less confident tone because I was thinking about that unexplained thing I had with Zane and how I'd never know how he felt. I got used to him and those moments of endearment and I convinced myself that I was fine with not having a label to explain what the hell was going on between us, but I was lying to myself. I didn't want him to suddenly leave, so I kept my mouth shut and never asked him what I meant to him. To ease my mind a bit, I deemed myself his pet, something that he cared about, and it was true. Zane took care of me without question, practically adopted me off the street. Going through that daily uncertainty again would be torturous. "I really hope you don't expect me to act like the Crow Eaters and give you whatever you want just 'cause you're a Son. That's not gonna happen."
"I know you're not like the Crow Eaters and I never thought you'd be. I like you a lot, Marceline." The way the words easily spilled from his lips instantly made me blush and he looked so composed, but he was gauging my reaction. "I know I crossed the line and Chibs is gonna skin me alive if he finds out, but for you...to call you mine...I think getting chewed out and beaten half-unconscious would be worth it."
Against what I told Happy, my heart was currently a rapidly thumping ball of sunshine and glee right now. What Kip just admitted had to be one of the sweetest things I've ever heard and I was beyond flattered that he would risk getting hell from the Sons just to be with someone like me. There wasn't anything special about me and I have no idea what attracted him to me in the first place. He's been around the best whores and pornstars in California all this time and I'm sure he's had a go at them, but he decided to chase after me.
I had my head down and was praying to God that Kip couldn't see how red my face was. He was so close though. His hands were flanking my legs and I noticed the dryer stopped tumbling. When he inhaled, his chest would slightly touch my forehead and I could smell that calming scent of his again. I bit my lip when I felt his fingers on my cheek and I dared to look into those winsome eyes of his, melting on the spot. He leaned in again and set his forehead on mine, our noses briefly brushing against each others.
Slower than his first attempt, Kip went in for another kiss and I didn't stop him from getting one. Christ, that kiss was so delicate and tender, but the endearment with it made sparks fly out of my head. I've never experienced a buss like that before, but I never wanted to forget the feeling of it. The tingling, the warmth, how my stomach was doing countless backflips and how there were rainbows continuously sprouting out of my head. Kip gently pulled away and I softly sighed, feeling the burning sensation coating my cheeks.
"...I-I like you too." The words left my mouth in a breathless whisper, but Kip smiled, so he heard it.
"Should we finish up?" He asked and I nodded, going in for another kiss and feeling him smiling when I managed to steal one. "I was talking about the laundry, but your idea's fine too."
I laughed with him and he slid me off the stationary dryer. When the rest of Jax and Juice's clothes got their turn in a cycle, I folded everything and went to deliver Jax's hamper first. He wasn't in his room, but the space was put together again and I set his fresh clothes on his bed. When I knocked on Juice's door with his clean clothes, I heard him tell me to come in and saw him posted at his computer, hastily typing away. He seemed deeply concentrated on whatever he was doing, so I dropped his basket off and left.
Kip walked with me to the bar and we were holding hands up until we saw the other Sons scattered around the room. Piney was still gone, Opie was out of sight now and so was Jax. I heard someone in the kitchen and poked my head in the sliding door, seeing Gemma stocking the fridge with beers. It smelled like a lemony cleaner in here and I wondered if she just got finished cleaning.
"Did you get Clay out?" I asked, catching her attention and making her turn around to look at me. She smiled, but shook her head.
"Tried, but Tigger calmed me down before I got arrested. Clay's gonna be spending the night at the station with that bitch of an ATF agent." She rolled her eyes and I smiled. "You get inked or is that a bruise from earlier?" She pointed to the plastic wrapping that managed to stay on my shoulder and I got closer to let her see the stunningly detailed art. "Oh, that's beautiful. Lucky you. Happy doesn't usually tattoo girls, says they talk or whine too much. I've only got 2."
Gemma rolled the left sleeve of her black shirt up and showed me her forearm. On it was a stock tattoo of a cherry blossom branch, a few pink petals falling around it. Due to the attention to detail and outline, it looked like Happy's work. The next one was in a more intimate spot, but Gemma had no problem tugging the neckline of her shirt down to reveal the artwork over her right breast. The tattoo was of a mean-looking crow with spread wings and it was holding 3 arrows in one of its feet. There was a red heart on the crow and below it was a scroll with 'Forever' written on it. With the opportunity, I got to see that scar again and my mind was wondering how she got it.
"Maybe I'll see it on you one day." Gemma said and I looked up at her, confused. She smiled at me and tapped the tattoo. "The Crow, reserved for Old Ladies only."
"You think I'm gonna marry a Son?" I asked, smiling back at her.
"Oh, baby. I know you are. You can handle these guys and the shit that comes with the club, I can feel it. I ran-away from Charming when I was 16, shacked up with John and got knocked up. Came back home 10 years later with a baby and a motorcycle club." Gemma chuckled to herself and I smiled at how heartfelt she sounded. "Once the boys patch Half-Sack in, we'll get some young meat around here and you'll be drooling over one of them."
"Wanna bet?" I asked, the lightest bit of sarcasm in my voice and Gemma's eyebrows went up as she oohed at me.
"Sassy and cute, you're bad news if I ever seen it." With a smile, Gemma pinched my cheek and left the kitchen, but she backtracked. "Any plans with your little girlfriend tomorrow?"
"No, I'm free. What's up?"
"We're gonna have a little Girls' Day Out, drive over to Fresno to raid their mall. I've seen your clothes and sweetheart, that will not do. By the time we're done, Clay should be ready to get out. Sound like a plan?"
"Yes! Thanks, Gem!" I skipped over to the door to hug her and loved the way her laughed sounded. I've heard her giggles and a chuckle, but not a wholehearted laugh like the one she just did.
Gemma gave me a tender squeeze, minding my wrapped shoulder, and she let me go. She put a hand on my cheek and smiled at me, walking off. When I went out into the bar, I saw that the Sons cleared out again and Kip was the only one here. He looked like he was starting a solo game of pool, but he noticed me and waved me over. When I passed the Chapel doors, I saw the blinds flick shut and figured the other Sons were in there attending Church. I couldn't even hear them talking.
"You know how to shoot?" Kip asked, grabbing another cue, and I shook my head. He actually looked surprised.
I knew he was about to teach me how to play the game, so I quickly braided my hair and took the second cue from him. Kip asked me to show him how I thought the game was played and I tried to position my hands like I saw Clay did when he was playing, but I don't think I was doing it right because the long stick wouldn't move when I tried to push at it. And Kip was laughing at me.
"What's so funny?" I asked, half-glaring at him.
"You just look...stuck."
With another laugh, Kip set his cue down and came around the table to help me. He said my form was right and I got the gist of how to hold the cue, but my hands were the problem. After properly positioning my hands and somehow managing to make a circle with my thumb and forefinger, Kip placed the cue in the circle and prompted me to try to shoot again. When I did, the cue just scraped against the green felt of the table and he was hysterical.
"I'm glad you find this so hilarious." I scolded and Kip stopped laughing...a little. He was still snickering at me.
"It's just strange, you know? With Chibs being your old man, I thought he taught you."
"Dad showed me how to throw Darts, but I was playing football most of my childhood." I smiled to myself, remembering those days in grade school when we'd have Gym class and all the boys would fight over having Jasmine and I on their team because we were the best in the school. I taught Jasmine how to play football one summer and we'd usually play with the neighborhood boys.
I'm sure Dad would've taught me how to shoot Pool, but he'd have me on his knee and explaining everything about football when it'd come on TV and we'd go in the backyard to practice. He told me that once I was old enough to pick my favorite team off statistics and not how pretty their uniform colors were, he'd take me to a game...but he didn't exactly have the time to. My smile faded then.
I started thinking about what Dad said when we moved in, about all the time lost and how he couldn't make up for it. I wanted to believe myself when I told him it didn't matter and I did at first, but it did matter. I'll never forget the first Christmas I had without him. It was horrible. I didn't set cookies out for Santa or put the star on the flimsy tree Rose bought or hang stockings in hopes they'd be stuffed with little gifts. I didn't even look at a candy cane. I knew I made something for Dad, but I couldn't remember what it was. It was special though. From the minute I woke up, I was posted in the downstairs window with his gift and I didn't move from that spot. I thought I'd catch Dad coming home and I was going to run outside and hug him and never let go.
But he never came walking down the street with a box shortbread or a wrapped present or anything.
I spent that Christmas alone and crying. Rose went out in the sluttiest Mrs. Clause costume I've ever seen and she was already getting tipsy on the spiked eggnog she made. The only gift I got was a quiet house with no yelling or screaming or pain and I cherished those long hours of safety, but I couldn't stop crying because Dad was gone. The saddest part was that year after year, despite Rose telling me that I was an idiot, I still waited for him. On his birthday and every holiday, I'd be sitting outside on the porch with a gift just waiting for him to walk back into my life because I knew he was out there and he couldn't have forgotten about me. When Zane caught me waiting, he asked what was going on, but I never told him about my lost parent or Rosemary's abuse or why I'd be sitting on that porch. He only asked me twice, then we'd be waiting, from morning to midnight, for my Dad to come strolling down the street. He'd like Zane, I knew he would.
Even now that we were reunited, I still couldn't believe that he was back. As much as I knew he'd never want to leave me again, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to abandon me again and I hated it. Maybe he didn't want the responsibility of taking care of a kid after all the years he's had to be free and lawless. Maybe I was too much for him to handle...a liability...a burden.
"Marceline?" Kips' gentle voice brought me from my stupor and I took a shaky intake of breath, feeling the swell in my throat. I was not going to cry in front of him. It's bad enough half of the Sons saw me bawling over my dead cat, but I didn't need them thinking I'd break out in tears at any given moment. I glanced at Kip, eyes blurred with tears, and tried to give him the smallest of smiles, but I barely felt my lips curve and I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent breaking. He looked beyond worried and he set his cue on the table, taking slow steps closer to me. "Are you okay?"
No, I'm not. My feelings are all over the place and I want to be strong, but I'm sick of toughing things out. I want to be okay, but I'm not.
I wish it could be that easy to say what was on my mind. Kip was right there and offering an output because he knew it'd help me, but I didn't want to drag him into the complicated mess of my life. I didn't want him to look at Dad as a bad parent because he wasn't and it wasn't his fault that I got left behind. I was never one to rely on anyone else and I didn't like dumping my problems on anyone either. I always figured out a way to solve my dilemmas and get through the ordeals of life by myself. But Christ, it just hurt so much and I've been keeping all this bottled inside me for years.
"...can you take me home?" I quietly asked, hanging my head to wipe at the tears.
"Yeah...whatever you want."
I didn't look at Kip, but I nodded and I saw him reach for my hand. He grabbed my smaller mitt as if it were made of brittle and guided me outside. The warm California air made me feel a bit better and we silently mounted Kip's bike. Before he pulled off, I managed to ask if he could take his time on the drive and he said he would. We weren't riding slowly through the town, but we weren't zipping down the streets either. We were cruising throughout Charming and this would be the kind of ride that'd make you want to take in the scenery, but my face was buried into Kip's back. My eyes were shut and my hold was tightly tender around his stomach, lost deep in my thoughts.
I was mentally scolding myself for crying so quickly twice. Everything just came crashing down on me. I ran away from the place I grew up in, left Zane behind and probably hurt his feelings. It was too risky to talk to him, so he probably thinks I don't give a shit about him and he's moved on with his life. Christ only knows what the hell Gage is up to, but I wasn't as worried about him finding me as I was when I first came to Charming because I was with the Sons. I knew Juice was doing his best at getting some dirt on the Spartans and juggling whatever duties he had with his own club, but he would've told Dad or Clay if something was up. I took Clay's word on the club knowing if a new face came into Charming too. I just noticed it, but they seemed to be expecting that raid earlier. Maybe that's why they were laughing, because they were one step ahead and prepared.
I felt Kip's bigger hand set over mine and I finally opened my eyes. I could feel a few sneaky tears on my eyelashes. We were parked in front of my house and he already took his helmet off. I unraveled my arms from him and took my helmet off, not getting tripped up by the stubborn latch this time. I dismounted his bike and set it on the seat, shuffling up the steps to the porch. I quickly unlocked the door and almost tripped over Diesel. When I looked down into his loving eyes, his tail was wagging and I pet him. He looked past my legs when he heard the door shut and sniffed at the air near Kip, but licked my hand. I noticed a charcoal-colored bolster dog bed next to the couch and figured Kip put all of Diesel's things around the house.
With Diesel at my side, I went straight to my room and shut the door behind me. There was another dog bed in here next to the window, but this one was black and there was a red bone sitting inside. Diesel went straight to his bed, circled in it a few times, then started chewing on his bone. I toed my sneakers off, stripped my pants and shirt, then slipped into one of the big SAMCRO shirts I had. I took the blanket off my bed and wrapped myself in it, grabbing a pillow. I settled on the carpeted floor next to Diesel's bed and he dropped his toy. I opened the blanket for him to get in and he did, curling up close to me.
I just wanted to be alone for a minute to get myself together and stabilize my emotions. I had to force myself to believe that Dad was going to be part of my life now and we were going to be one, big, happy family with the Sons. Being positive worked better than letting negativity turn to depression and being glum or moody. I had to look forward, to the light of the future.
And there was a well-needed shopping trip in my future.