Chapter 15:
"You are born into your family and your family is born into you. No returns. No exchanges."
―Elizabeth Berg, The Art of Mending
The low buzzing pierced the silence of my room and I quietly groaned, not wanting to move from the perfect spot I was in. Kip still had his arms around me, but I was more on him. Hell, I was practically laying on top of him, but he didn't seem to mind. That disturbing buzz didn't stop and I opened an eye when I felt Kip moving under me, his arm reaching over to the nightstand, the afternoon sun seeping in through the dark curtains.
"Ignore it." I groused, my voice still drenched in sleepiness. I stretched my arm over his and laced our fingers together. I felt Kip chuckle and I smiled into his bare chest, starting to kiss around it.
"Clay'll have my kutte if I do." He retorted and his voice was low, just as lethargic as mine was. I picked my head up to pout at him because I knew he was right and he smirked at me. I rolled to his side and he curled his arm around my waist, but grabbed his Burner from my nightstand. He flicked it open and before he could even say 'Hello', I could distinctly hear Tig telling him to get his ass to work before he's jobless. "Guess we should get going." He sighed, but pulled me closer to him and rolled over me, making me laugh as he kissed my cheeks or neck. "I really don't wanna get outta this bed...just wanna stay with you."
"You could come back tonight." I offered and after he nuzzled into my neck, he sat up to look down at me.
I remembered that we were just in this position not to long ago and what we did and how fantastic it was and how spectacular he made me feel. I felt my cheeks flush a bit and the goosebumps were rising as that familiar feeling started creeping up on me. I'd love to do it again, but I didn't want Kip to think I was a sex fiend and he had to get to work.
"Will you come with me tomorrow?" He asked and my brows furrowed. "To the hospital for my surgery."
"You want me to be there when you get a new nut?" I giggled and he nodded, both of us laughing. "Sure, I'll go with you."
Kip pecked my cheeks until I laughed again, then he got out of bed and I followed suit.
I went to my dresser, deciding on a black, floral printed mullet skirt with a sleeveless denim shirt and gladiator sandals to wear, and gave Kip one of the Reaper Crew shirts to change into. Surprisingly, I wasn't as insecure as I thought I'd be being naked around him. I was appreciating the view of his bare body and he had one cute butt, but I went into the bathroom to stop my naughty thoughts. I quickly showered and left the water running for Kip. He was back on the phone before he went into the bathroom and after grabbing my shoulder bag with my art supplies and gun inside, I went to check on Diesel. He was still outside, relaxing in the grass.
I whistled and the pit's ears perked, his head turning to me. Diesel got up, but it looked like he sniffed at something before he started trotting over to me with a wagging tail. He just sat before the doors and looked up at me with his sweet eyes. He grumbled and I rose an eyebrow, kneeling down. His paw scratched at the air and I set my hand out, thinking he'd drop his paw in it like he did before, but something damp and fuzzy plopped into my hand. I stifled a shiver when I looked down at the dead squirrel in my palm, but smiled at Diesel.
I've been through this with Melinoë. After a few weeks of living with me, she'd manage to get into the backyard and she'd hunt hummingbirds to leave their corpses near my bed. It freaked me out because I thought she was trying to sacrifice them in some ritual that would allow her to swap bodies with me, but I figured out why she did it. That was her way of saying 'You are my human and I love you. Take this dead animal as a sign of my undying devotion.'
"Thanks, Diesel. I love you too." I pat him on the head and he came inside, going to his water bowl. I crept outside and tossed the squirrel over the fence.
When I finished washing my hands, Kip emerged from the bathroom and after reluctantly keeping his hands off me, we headed outside to mount his bike. The ride to the clubhouse seemed entirely too short and I hated that we were going have to be distanced from each other, but I sucked it up. At the end of the day, I still had him and I was going to see him again tonight. Before we parted, Kip gave me a peck on the cheek and went towards the garage to change into his mechanic shirt while I went inside the clubhouse in search of Juice.
When I walked in, the Sons, were mainly surrounding one pool table and Clay had a cigar box in his hand. They were all talking or drinking beers, but it seemed like they were waiting for something.
"Where you been?" I turned when I heard Happy's gravely voice and cocked an eyebrow as he came to my side. "Feels like you ain't been around here in days."
"Aw, did you miss me?" I smiled and he huffed at me.
The Nomad started to join the other Sons, but sent a light punch to my arm and when I slapped his arm back, he slowly turned his head around. I knew what was going to happen and I let out a startled, yet joyful, yelp when Happy started chasing me. For an older man, he was pretty light on his feet. The other Sons were laughing at us, but I ran behind Dad and used him as a human shield. Happy's dark eyes were locked on me from over his shoulder, but I saw the corner of his lip upturned in the gesture of a smirk. I think I've started to melt his cold heart.
Clay said he wanted to start Church and after he put his phones in that cigar box, he passed it around to the rest of the leather-clad men and they all did the same. The guys headed into the Chapel. Tig was the last Son remaining and he already put his phones in the box, but he didn't go inside the leather doors.
"Wanna help me with something?" He asked. I felt like I didn't have much of a choice, so I nodded and he smirked. Tig led me outside and to a truck parked across the lot, a 1985 Dodge Ram, but looked to Tig for further instruction. He dug in his pocket and took out a small, metal square, pulling an antenna up. "This is a KJB detector. It'll tell you if there's audio or video devices in a certain spot by detecting their frequencies."
"So, it'll tell you if something's been bugged?" I asked, getting the gist of the purpose of the tiny device. Tig nodded and gave me the gadget.
"Go around the truck and see if you can pickup anything."
I stepped towards the truck and hovered the KJB detector a few meters before the metal, going along it. I went around the entire car and trailed the rim of the underside. The device didn't beep or buzz. When I got back to Tig's side, he had the car's door opened and asked me to do the same thing to the inside. I sat in the driver's seat and moved the device around the interior of the car, going under the glove department and seats like Tig asked. When I was scanning the roof, I heard the small tool start to beep when I got to the car's sun visor.
"I think I found something." I informed Tig and he pulled me out of the car to investigate. He must've found whatever made the detector go off, but it was too small for me to see it.
Tig got out of the truck, locked the door and pocketed the small detector. He told me I did a good job and we went back inside the clubhouse. He went behind the bar and pulled 2 rectangular books from the bottom shelves, sitting them in the bar top. He told me they were the mug books Juice set aside for me and headed for the Chapel doors, but he stopped before he passed the pool table. The box holding all the Sons' phones was sitting on the green felt and Tig hovered the detector over it, making it beep again. He rummaged through the box and snapped one of the Burners in half, dropping it in a mug of beer one of the men left behind before joining the other members.
I wondered what that whole thing was about, but I decided that I'd have one less headache to deal with if I didn't ponder. I grabbed the brown books from the bar, found a marker and went to sit on one of the leather sofas. I opened the first book and diligently started to scan the rows of mugshots. Halfway through the book, I spotted Beast Boy and his brother on one page. Apparently, they were Jeremiah Marshall and Maddox Japheth Owens.
On the second to last page, I circled Grimm's mugshot. The picture must've been taken years ago because there wasn't a single gray hair on him and his real name wasn't stamped under his picture. I wondered how he managed to keep his name unknown to the police. Juice already had a picture of Gage, so that was 4 Spartans down and 3 to go. I set the first book down and grabbed the next one, starting the process over again. After 4 pages, I discovered Garrett Azrael Roth, more commonly known as Dutchman, and Roman Joel Knox was Scrap. A few leafs later, I found Lucky and his name was Tony Carter, no middle name.
Hidden in the 4th row on the last page was Asher Nathaniel Levy.
The first day I met Gage and was patching me up in his room at the MC, he told me his first name, but he said he didn't like it. He said he preferred the nickname his mother called him as a child, Gage. She said it meant something valued and a guaranteed symbol of good faith. He considered himself that, a man of good faith. He explained that some people might think the things he does aren't moral or in anyway righteous, but his decisions were always the best and it was like a ray of light breaking through a cloudy sky. He always picked what he knew would benefit himself or his MC in the long run.
Now that I was thinking about how he contemplated things, I wondered what he was doing about me running off. As much as I hoped, I knew he didn't just forget about me. What if Scrap figured out who Dad was, got his address and they knew where he was? What if they were hiding around town and waiting like a pack of wolves on a hunt? I knew Grimm wouldn't allow his President to go to some unknown place and be vulnerable, so Gage wouldn't be in Charming. The simple thought of Grimm coming here and staking the house or the Sons was unnerving. But if any of the Spartans were in Charming, I'd have spotted their motorcycles or recognized their faces from miles away.
My eyes went wide when the only reasonable outcome revealed itself, my heartbeat increasing.
A Drifter.
Drifters were just faces blending in with crowds, making it impossible to stand out against any common man. One of those mercenaries could be anywhere and everywhere and I wouldn't know. But Drifters were discreetly known for being notorious killers or torture masters, not kidnappers. Even with Gage being the President or how much the pay was, I think a Drifter would laugh in his face if he was asked to find some ginger girl and bring her to Scotts Valley alive and unharmed. They liked getting paid to hurt people because they were deranged sadists.
"Hey, kiddo." I just barely managed to stop myself from flinching when I heard Piney's resonant voice. I looked up from the mug book and he was coming over here, a little smile on his lips. He sat in the armchair across from me and adjusted his oxygen bag to sit in his lap, but pointed to the book in my hand. "You drawin' tattoos for Happy?"
"Picking out the faces of the Spartans." I smiled when Piney made a noise of disapprobation. He really didn't like the idea of a young guy running a motorcycle club. I guess he didn't think Gage was mature enough for the role. I was really going to get on Happy's ass now because I knew he missed me.
"Mind if I take a look at those tattoos of yours?"
"Aren't you a little old to be getting a tattoo?" I joked and Piney looked up at me, eyebrow cocked.
"Aren't you a little too young to have an opinion?" He quipped back, quietly coughing.
With a giggle and nod, I grabbed my bag and let Piney flip through the pages of drawings. In the free time I've had, I've been drawing romantic pictures of couples or hand holding because of Kip. After Piney was done looking at my drawings and went to the bar in search of a drink, I wandered over to the wall of mugshots. I smiled at all of the pictures and noticed how young all the Sons were in their mugshots. When I found Happy, I swore the man was a vampire because he looked the same then as he did now. He probably bathed in the blood of his victims. I spotted Dad's and I started reminiscing about childhood memories because that's exactly what he looked like before he left.
As I looked into his photographed eyes, I had to stop myself from frowning. We really needed to talk about Rose and my apparent abandonment issues. He should know about that devilish woman and I had some questions for him that I couldn't answer on my own. I didn't want to bother him though. I was trying not to change his life from how it was before I came and that meant staying out of his way. The Sons have been treating me like family and I'm sure they were happy to have me around, but they had their own shit to deal with too. I didn't want to disrupt their balance.
"Lookin' for JT?" Piney asked and I blinked, coming out of my thoughts. He had a bottle of a brown liquor in one hand and a shot glass in the other. He looked over the pictures and chuckled. He pointed to a picture next to a short-haired Bobby and I giggled at the grumpy face of the man.
"That's John?"
"That's me." I let a laugh out and Piney was smirking at me. I looked over all the unknown Sons and pointed to the long-haired man under Bobby's picture.
"Is that him?"
"Nope, that's Big Otto. He's up in Stockton." After humming in thought, I pointed to a butterscotch-blond with a blue bandanna under Juice's mughsot. "That's Rusty, think he's with SAMDINO now. You're gettin' warmer though." After picking another blond man and wrongly guessing that he was John, Piney had mercy on me and pointed the founding father out. John's picture was under Clay's and the man had chocolate-eyes with dark-coffee hair that was the same length's as Jax's. So this was Jax's Dad and Gemma's first husband. "Before you ask, Jax got his eyes from Gemma's Dad. Where he got that blond hair from is a mystery." Piney joked and I smiled at him.
"Why doesn't anyone talk about him?" I asked and Piney lost his smile, a questioning look on his worn face. "Nobody tells stories about John or anything. Gemma doesn't even talk about him. Only thing I've heard is that he crashed into a semi."
"John was a very complicated man." Piney sighed, his eyes on the picture of the man we were talking about. "We had a plan for this club, wanted to keep it virtuous. The idea was set, we built upon it, but corruption, lies and greed made it into the exact opposite of what we were aimin' for...I know I'm just a senile old man, but remember this Marceline," Piney turned to me with a stony-faced expression. "Blood can never be washed off. No matter how good a man is, once he spills blood, it's there forever. It changes people, somethin' in them dies too. Some can handle it, they get it done and move on and let it harden them like Happy and Tig, but men who think with their hearts, men like Jax...it lives with them forever, haunts them even. John, unfortunately, was in-between. He got tougher, but he never forgot and it started wearing him down."
Piney's brows were set in a firm line and he still had an impassive face, but I saw pain in his dark eyes. He set his gaze back on John and sighed. The older man put his hand on John's picture and gave it a light pat before he shuffled away to the hall of dorms. I stared at John's picture for a minute, taking him in. Piney made him sound so...torn. He wanted to do right by the club, but he didn't want to kill. Eventually, he had to and that was one of the changes he didn't want. He wanted to be a good man with a code, but somewhere along the way, his morals were tampered with. It was all because of what he created, all because he was a Son. The Son.
The sound of more boots on the hardwood floor made me look to the side and the Sons were piling out of the Chapel. From my view, I saw Tig whisper something to Clay before they came out and all the men began collecting their phones. I went to the sofa I was sitting on and grabbed the mug books, giving them to Juice. I told him I found all the members and he went straight to his dorm to research them. Bobby and Clay were on one side of the pool table and the Secretary was starting a game. Jax looked like he was about to join them, but he got a call and retreated to the kitchen. Dad went to get the drink of his desire from the bar, a glass, then sat down at the sofa while Happy and Quinn headed into the garage and Opie headed out the front door.
"These your drawings, dovey?" Dad asked and I saw him looking at the pages from my book. I went to sit next to him, nodding. He looked impressed by my work and I smiled at it. "This is somethin' I'd get inked." I glanced at the sketch and it was of an edgy zombie woman in lingerie. "You've got skills, Marci. We gotta take ya' down to Freddie's, get ya' a job. Ever think of becomin' an tattoo artist?"
"That'd be pretty cool, having people wear my art." I smiled and I saw Dad's eyes twinkle like they did when he was thinking about the past. "You think Freddie would take me on as his apprentice?"
"He'd be a fool not to. If he wouldn't, I'm sure Hap would. I'll give him a call later." I nodded and Dad went back to looking at my drawings. He pointed out another one and said Tig would like it. The sketch was of a skull with rope and a scroll around it. 'Dead Men Tell No Tales' was on the curved paper and I remembered being inspired to draw it after watching Pirates of the Caribbean.
Once Dad was finished with the first book, I took another one out of my bag and let him see all my work. When he saw something he thought was fitting, he'd call one of the Sons over and tell them they should get the sketch inked. From their responses, they all were willing to get another tattoo. Dad just complimented the sketch I drew of Jasmine a few days after we went to Fun Town and I'd have to see what she was up to because I was curious about where she and Juice stood...or laid. I had to tell her about Kip and I too, what happened today.
With him in mind, I thought about telling Dad about me hooking up with the Prospect. He was in a good mood right now and things seemed to be getting serious between Kip and I. Just a few hours ago, I gave him my virginity and he wanted me to come with his to his surgery tomorrow. Both were pretty big deals. The trust between us made me forget all about being nervous or scared that Dad wouldn't approve because even if he didn't, I doubted Kip would breakup with me. He wasn't that kind of man and I wasn't going to let Dad's opinion make me avoid the one man I trusted and felt safe with just about or even more than Zane. Christ, I was attached already.
"Da, can we talk?" I asked. His eyes were still focused on my drawings, but he glanced at me.
"Are you pregnant?"
"No, Dad. Jeeze." I shook my head at him, but he set the book down and gave me his full attention, motioning for me to ask whatever was on my mind. Now that I had the chance, I didn't know how to start this conversation. I knew Dad didn't like when people beat around the bush and I was like that too, but talking about boys to your father wasn't an easy thing to do. "Do you...would you want me to be an Old Lady? I mean, if I wanted to be with a Son...that may or may not be in this charter...would you be okay with that?"
"I just want ya' to be happy, dovey. If you wanna get involved with a Son, that's your decision." He easily replied. I felt like he knew I was going to ask him this because he seemed prepared, then again, he always planned everything that involved himself before people even thought they'd need him. "I'd be alright with it 'cause I know what you'd be gettin' into if you settled down with a Son and you'd be taken care of, but no 'cause this life isn't easy, Marci. there's nothin' normal 'bout how we live. Sometimes, things get rough and ya' can't run away from it. There's a lot to learn, you'll be takin' on additional weight just for him and you'll be givin' yourself to the club too. It'll almost be like you're a member along with him. But it's not my choice, Marceline." He added the last part with a noticeably more tender voice and his hand set over mine, warming it. "If this does come about, just promise to keep the touchin' to a bare minimum around me." He smirked. "Last thing I wanna see is Juice's-"
"Whoa, hold it right there, Pops!" I interrupted and Dad's barking laughter followed. Why in God's name he thought I wanted Juice was something I didn't want to know. "Juice has been marked by Jasmine as her territory, no trespassing."
"Pardon my inaccurate interpretation." He chuckled and I cracked a smirk. Dad looked like he took a second to think, then he started grinning at me as if he knew what was going on. "You've taken a likin' to my pupil? Lad's only got the one nut, dovey." He chuckled. He didn't even joke about me and Jax, which was a good thing. At least he knew his VP wasn't serious about me. If only he could get Kip to realize that.
"What if I did?" I asked, feeling my cheeks starting to warm in embarrassment. Dad let out another laugh and I was glad he seemed to be taking this lightly because I was internally freaking out.
"That'd be cute, the two of you together. Just the other day, Gem was just tellin' me what your kid would look like." He snickered. Maybe that's why he was being so calm about this, Gemma hinted about what she already knew was going on. I'd have to thank her. "Kid's gotta good heart, He's not completely insane and he's dedicated to whatever he's dead set on. I'd actually approve of him. Will he be escortin' ya' to Abel's homecomin' tonight?"
"Abel's coming home?" I asked, excited, momentarily forgetting that I was trying to tell Dad that I was dating Kip and not asking him hypothetical questions. At least he'd wasn't against Kip being with me. That was some sweat off my back.
"Aye, Jackie Boy just told us in Church. Gem's at his house gettin' the decorations up. You gonna-" Dad was cut off by his phone chiming and he flipped it open, reading the number. I knew I shouldn't be around to hear phone calls, so I looked to the pool table. Bobby and Clay finally disband and after grabbing my gun, I caught up with the President as he walked off.
I asked Clay if he had a minute to teach me whatever he wanted to pass down about guns and he seemed delighted to. He led me to his dorm and his space was just as tidy as Juice's was, but there was a lot more blue. Clay came out with a Heckler & Koch USP and led me out of the clubhouse to the back where mountains of tires or heaps or scrap metal were piled along the gate. I saw some fresh shooting targets tapped on the metal piles and figured the Sons come back here to regular practice.
"Yours loaded?" He asked, loading his own gun.
"Full clip and one in the chamber."
"Good. Alright, show me what you know."
As instructed, I brandished my pistol, flicked the safety off with my thumb and steadily aimed on one of the targets. I got my breathing to a nice pace, inhaled until my lugs were full of oxygen and fired, seeing the bullet's casing pop out of the gun as I was exhaling. I used to flinch every time I felt the recoil and that would totally disrupt my aim, but with practice with Zane, I learned to keep my hand steady. I almost got a direct heart shot too.
"Nice. Got your breathing right, steady aim, tight grip." Clay praised with a smile. "Try it again, go for a headshot this time."
I lined up my shot, got my breathing controlled again and took a deep breath. As soon as I put the slightest amount of pressure of the trigger, Clay suddenly bellowed and I yelped at the noise, the shot getting fired into the gate. I flipped the safety back on before turning to Clay, looking at him like he was insane. His focus was still forward, his arms lightly crossed over his chest.
"You missed." He noted and my jaw dropped, making him laugh. "In a real situation, your target would be moving. I'm not gonna play shot-test dummy, so I had to throw you off somehow. In an unpredictable environment, you gotta stay focused. You distract me this time." Clay unfolded his arms and aimed at the target next to mine. I couldn't tell if he was taking the same steps I was before firing, but after a few seconds of dramatic silence, I screamed and he fired a trio of bullets. Looking at the target, he got one in the heart and a pair in the throat. I didn't throw him off a bit. "I was in deployed 'Nam, so I always imagine hearing bombs and semi-automatics, but you'll get better with practice."
"We should just get some pots and fill them with firecrackers." I joked.
"That's actually a good idea." Clay said and he looked like he was seriously considering what I said, much to my disbelief. He turned back to the targets and aimed on mine. "Best advice I can give you: Don't stop shooting 'till your target's on the ground. Aim for the head, chest, knees or whatever you can see."
I felt like he was going to fire again, so I watched the target for new holes. I heard Clay's almost inaudible groan and turned to him. He just dropped the gun and was holding the wrist of his left hand. I could see it shaking a bit, but he was clenching and clenching his fist. Maybe he pulled a muscle or something.
"You alright?" I softly asked. Clay looked over his shoulder at me and nodded, but he didn't look anywhere as lighthearted or upbeat as he did before.
"Could you do us a favor, Marci?" He asked. "We're running low on munchies in the kitchen. Gem's been busy lately and hasn't been able to stock up. Ask Bobby to throw you some cash, take the Prospect, the van and hit the shop?"
"Sure. Thanks for the lesson." Clay smirked at me and I left him to head back inside, glancing back at him.
Even as I walked away, I felt the same need to double-check on Clay like I did when Happy was dragged in that night. He was like Happy too, not wanting me to worry about him. I couldn't help it. I doubted Gemma was around, so I couldn't ask her to keep an eye on her husband. I hoped she knew about what was wrong with his hands, whatever the problem was.
I found Bobby behind the bar with Jax sitting in a stool. As I got closer, I could see all the pictures they were looking at and there were a few small boxes on the bar top. I didn't recognize most of the people in the shots, but I did see a young, Tig with Clay and they looked like they were in the office. Jax handed me a picture and I saw John Teller. He looked like he was sitting in the Chapel and there was a black-haired woman behind him that looked to be my age or a year younger. She had her arm around his shoulder and due to the low-cut top she was wearing, I got to see the Crow inked on her breast...and the scar between them.
"Is that Gemma?" I asked, awestruck, and Jax nodded. He took the photo from me and passed it to Bobby. "I need some cash, Bobby. Clay wants me to stock up the kitchen."
"There is a God." He sighed and bent down to look for something on the bar's lower shelves. When he straightened, he set a navy box on the counter and it looked like a lunchbox. He dug into the neckline of his shirt and there was a key on a string that he unlocked the box with.
Bobby gave me a few bills, told me the top priority was a box of Banana and Chocolate Creme Twinkies and gave me the list of goodies the Sons would want. He said the actual shopping list for the clubhouse was tucked in the sun visor of the van and gave me the keys to the van. I went searching for Kip and as soon as I opened the clubhouse doors, I almost ran through someone. The guy almost had 2 feet on me and he had curly light-brown hair to match his growing beard, his turquoise eyes looking down at me.
"Sorry, ma'am." He apologized and took a step back. I smiled when I saw the guy's big belly. He seemed like a nice, harmless guy, so why he was around the clubhouse was a mystery. Maybe he was a hang-around. "Have you seen Jax around?"
"Yeah, he's at the bar." I turned to the side to let the man come in, but Jax came from behind me and smiled at him, instructing him to go talk to Bobby. "Who's that?"
"Filthy Phil." Jax replied and I rolled my eyes at the nicknames these men could come up with. "That's one of Half-Sack's replacements."
"Replacements? He's not getting patched-in?" I asked, already worried. Kip seemed like a good candidate for a member and from what Juice and Gemma said, he was a shoe-in.
"We just voted on it in Church. The decision's made, can't change it now." Jax pat me on the shoulder and went to talk to Phil while I was rooted in place for a second.
Kip was going to be crushed. He worked so hard for a shot at getting in, but it was to no avail. I wondered if I should break the news to him, but it wasn't my place to. That was club business, not mine.
With a sigh, I went outside to the garage in search of Kip and found him sitting at one of the picnic tables with a dark-haired boy. Getting closer, I saw the toolbox and various combination wrenches, grips, wire clamps or little bits and bolts. He looked like he was naming all of the tools and what they did and he had the boy's full attention. The man I saw him sparring with, Lowell, came from one of the stations and he was wearing normal clothes, but his white shirt had an oil stain on it. He came over to the table and thanked Kip for keeping Moby, his son, preoccupied before heading off the lot.
"Clay put us on shopping duty." I said while Kip was putting the tools away.
He nodded, jogged into the garage and came back with his kutte on. I smiled when he threw his arm around my shoulders, leading me to the carport across the lot where a black 1997 Ford Econoline with tinted windows was waiting. When I climbed inside, I saw that the back of the van didn't have any seats, but there were benches mounted on either sides and a few random tools were back there on the floor.
"I talked to my Dad today." I broke the peaceful silence of the 20-minute drive, the only sound in the van being the low murmurs of whatever song was playing on the radio and the occasional thump. Kip was holding my hand again and our intertwined mitts were resting on his leg.
"About us?" He questioned and I nodded when he glanced at me. I felt him grip my hand a bit tighter. "...how'd that go?"
"He's not...he said he's...well, good news, bad news situation."
"Good news?"
"He said he approves of you and he'd be okay with us dating so long as we don't do too much touching in front of him."
"Okay, that sounds reasonable. And the bad news?"
"...he doesn't really know we're together..." I mumbled and just to my luck, we stopped at a red light. Kip tugged my hand and I looked at him, his observant blue eyes pinned on mine, making me sigh. "I didn't tell him we're together, just kinda hypothetically implied it. I think he thinks I've just got a crush on you. He asked if you were gonna be my date to Abel's homecoming."
"I'd love to take you." He smiled and that made me blush, my heart fluttering at the sight.
After a few more minutes of driving, Kip pulled into the parking lot of a store called Fresh and Easy. I noticed there weren't any chain stores in Charming, so this must be the town's Whole Foods. We got out of the van and while I was getting a shopping cart, I noticed a man dismounting his motorcycle. I couldn't see most of his facial features because his head was slightly turned away from me and he was wearing sunglasses, but he had dark-chocolate hair that fell to the tops of his shoulders. I was more interested in his motorcycle though, a 1999 Harley-Davidson FLSTF Fatboy, just like the one from Terminator 2. The man looked like he had a kutte on, but Kip was already leading me inside before I could get a good look at it.
As soon as we got inside the market, Kip led me straight to the isle with all the beer and alcohol. He put a few packs of what the Sons liked to drink in the cart, then said we could get everything else. We were going down the aisles and he was picking up the right things like it was clockwork. The Sons probably made him do this so much, it was natural to him. We spent an hour shopping and Bobby gave me the exact amount of money to pay for everything.
Kip was pushing the cart to the van and we were loading the bags into the back when he said he forgot Bobby's Twinkies. While he ran back inside, I was putting the rest of the bags away, but one of them ripped and a few cans clattered on the ground. Why do cashiers never double-bag when checking out?
"Please, let me get that for you." A man's voice insisted from behind the van's back door and I peered over it, seeing some guy on his knees.
He was reaching for the cans under the van and when he stood, he had all of them in his arm. Speaking of, he had ink scattered on his skin and from the unbuttoned neckline of his white and wrinkle-free button-down shirt, I saw another tattoo on his neck. It looked like a peace sign or a tree maybe. I finally looked at the man's face and he had a fading brown buzzcut with eyes so dark, I didn't know if they were brown or black. He had eyes like Happy. He looked like he could be a teacher, but his features were too hardened and his eyes reminded me of Happy's. With a kind smile, the man set the cans in another bag and shut the van's doors.
"Thank you." I said with the utmost politeness, giving the man a thankful smile.
"You're welcome. Have a blessed day, ma'am."
As quickly as he appeared, the man was gone. The people of Charming really had that small town mindset, going up to complete strangers to extend a helping hand and such. Nobody was friendly enough in Scotts Valley to ask a stranger anything more than the time. I didn't think I looked old enough to be called 'ma'am' either, but it's happened twice today. I suddenly remembered what Jax said before we left about Kip.
The anxiety of not knowing when they were going to tell him to hit the road was unbearable. What was going to happen to him when he got the boot? Would he move out of Charming and go back to Manhattan Beach or would he stay and become a full-time mechanic? Being around patched members, despite how much the Sons loved one another, seemed like a bad idea. He'd see the new Prospects and know they had had a shot at what he didn't get. That'd just make him jealous and spiteful.
I shook my head to stop thinking such dejected thoughts and Kip was coming out of the store with another yellow bag in his hand, glancing at the Fatboy parked near the entrance. I took a look around the parking lot, but I didn't the the owner of the motorcycle around. The ride back to the clubhouse was entirely too quick and Phil was waiting next to the van when we parked, but there was another guy with him. Like Phil, he had light-brown hair, but he had a goatee and he was almost half a foot shorter than the chubby man. The thing that caught my attention were the kuttes they were wearing and the Prospect patches on them.
"You Half-Sack?" The new guy asked when Kip and I got out of the car. He looked at both men skeptically, then nodded. "I'm Miles, that's Phil."
"Who's your sponsors?" Kip asked, his voice flat and stale.
"Opie."
"VP told us to bring in the groceries." Phil said. "Clay wants to see you inside, sounded pretty important."
I was dreading this moment and when I glanced at Kip, he looked like he just realized what was happening. While the new Prospects went to handle the bags, I took his hand and we made our way over to the clubhouse. Strangely, the entire place was dead silent. There were no clinking glasses or laughs or flicking of lighters. There wasn't a Son in sight, but the Chapel doors opened. I saw all the Sons surrounding the Reaper table and they all looked unbelievably deadly. Happy was the one who opened the doors and his stony-faced glare was on Kip.
"Get in here." He growled and I felt Kip go totally stiff. "Now!" Happy barked, making me flinch, and Kip dropped my hand to scurry inside the secret room.
Before he shut the doors, the Nomad smiled at me. It wasn't a closed-mouth smirk like I've seen before. He flashed his teeth and I swore I saw the Devil in human form.
The new Prospects started coming in with the bags and I cocked an eyebrow in disapproval at Phil when I saw him with his hand in a box of cereal. I told them where to put everything and when we finished, Miles said he had orders to take me to Jax's house. I was going to have to learn my lesson about wearing a skirt and getting on a motorcycle, but I managed to keep it from getting caught in the wheel. Miles dropped me off at Jax's house and I saw Gemma's car in the driveway. Walking up the path, I knocked and expected to be greeted by the matriarch of SAMCRO, but I wasn't. There was a dirty-blond with gingerbread-brown eyes standing before me.
"Gem, I think Marceline's here!" The woman called over her shoulder and led me inside the half-decorated house. In the living room, Gemma was in the process of hanging a homemade white banner that had 'Welcome Home Abel' going across it in blue letters, but she stepped down from the ladder.
"Wendy, this is Marceline. Marci, this is Wendy, the junkie Mom. She's sober for the moment." Gemma chirped as she introduced us and Wendy shook her head, but she didn't say anything about that junkie comment. Wendy excused herself to go into the kitchen and I turned to Gem, eyebrow raised.
"Jax has Tara and Wendy living under the same roof?"
"Oh, no. He's not that charming and Tara's not that stupid." Gem chuckled and asked me to help with the banner. I climbed up the ladder and she was giving me tacks to pin the cloth. "Wendy needed a place to stay before she gets shipped off to rehab or a halfway-house for the billionth time. She better go through with it 'cause that's the only way she'll see Abel. I refuse to let a junkie raise my grandson. Hey, where's Eddie?"
"Eddie?" I asked, confused, looking down at her.
"Kip. His first name's Edward, but he uses his middle name as his first. I dunno why, Edward's a very gentlemanly name."
"Well, Eddie's at the clubhouse." I smiled, but it began to fade as I remembered what happened before I left. "...the guys are breaking the news to him..."
"What news?" Gem asked and I sighed, climbing down. The banner was pinned up perfectly and I sat on the sofa across the room, Gemma sitting next to me.
"Opie drafted a pair of Prospects, Filthy Phil and Miles. Jax said they were Kip's replacements and they were all waiting for him when we came back from the market."
"Did they take him in the Chapel, kinda screamed at him?"
"Yeah, Happy sounded so angry too."
"Oh, Marci. You gotta get used to us and how we get our sick kicks." Gemma giggled, while I was thrown deeper into the darkness of incertitude. When she saw my expression she chuckled and pat my cheek. "Don't worry about Eddie, he'll be fine."
"But-"
"C'mon, we've got food to make. Wendy can't cook for shit." Gem got up and sauntered into the kitchen, leaving me on the couch in a sea of confusion.
Gemma and I got started on making food for the little party going on in a few hours. Wendy offered to help, but Gemma told her that burning Crank in a spoon isn't equivalent to knowing how to cook. She sent Wendy to the store to get us what we needed and beers for the fridge. I just got finished making a plate of Deviled Eggs that looked like newborn babies when I heard a knock at the door. Gemma was allowing Wendy to stir something in a bowl while she was making another plate of finger food, so I went to answer it. I smiled when I saw the carseat in Tara's hand and she smiled at me.
"How is he?" I asked as she set the seat on the coffee table.
"He's gotten so big and strong. He's a Teller for sure." She giggled and pulled the shade back.
The first thing I saw were those electric-blue eyes that had to be passed down from Jax and I was in love. Abel really did get bigger. When I saw him in the incubator at St. Thomas, he looked about the size of a newborn puppy, but he was normally sized now and he looked like a happy, health baby boy. He still had that blue Sons of Anarchy cap on his head too. When he, cooed and my heart melted on the spot. He was going to have all the girls drooling over him when he got older.
"Is that my grandson I hear?" Gemma fluttered in from the kitchen and I've never seen her so happy before. She ran her finger over his soft cheek and I noticed Wendy watching from the entrance of the kitchen. She couldn't see Abel's face, but she looked like she wanted to come over and hold him. Tara, on the other hand, was almost glaring at the blonde. Gemma seemed to notice because she looked between the women before smirking almost evilly. "Tara, you remember Wendy."
"How could I forget? She had enough Speed in her system kill an elephant." Tara replied, her threatening eyes never leaving Wendy's. "You nearly killed him." She hissed, making Gemma stand up with an eyebrow raised. She looked a bit proud too. "He's an innocent baby, your baby, and you almost killed him because you wanted to get high."
"...but he's okay..." Wendy mumbled, her cowgirl boots toeing at the carpeted floor as she hung her head. "...he's got all his fingers and toes and he'll be taken care of...he's gotta Daddy that loves him..."
"You're a disgrace." Tara sneered and excused herself to go to the bathroom. Gemma was watching the little altercation with a sly smirk and told me to make sure Wendy stayed away from Abel while she went to talk to Tara.
Wendy decided to blow up some balloons and tape them around, then she started setting the food. I noticed that she tried to avoid Abel by all means and I wondered what Gemma could've said to her to make her stay away from her own child, not that she's been doing a great job at being a Mom. By the time Tara and Gemma came back, Jax was coming in and he had all the Sons behind him.
~.~.~.~.
The party was in full swing and Jax hasn't taken his eyes off his son since he walked in the door. He's had Abel in his arms since he walked through the door and he only handed him off to Tara when he went to the bathroom. There were a few close friends of the club attending the get-together and Dad introduced me to them all, but there was no way I was going to remember all their names. Once that was finished, I got to meet Opie's wife and kids. Donna, Ellie and Kenny. Ellie waved at me, but partially hid behind her mother's leg while Kenny was flying his action figures around.
"Do you like Superman?" He asked and I kneeled down to his level.
"I love Superman. He's awesome." Kenny laughed at me and released Opie's hand to take mine and lead me to a spot on the carpet where we could play with his toys.
As I played superheroes with Kenny, I kept looking around to see where everyone was. I was looking for Kip, thinking he'd slip in without me noticing, but I haven't spotted him yet. Against what Gem said, I was more worried now than I was earlier. I didn't know what happened when a Prospect was rejected entry to the club and I was thinking about how sickly gleeful Happy looked earlier. He wouldn't kill Kip, Dad was his sponsor and he was responsible for him, so he wouldn't let Happy off him. Besides, there was no reason to have Kip murdered, he wasn't going to snitch. The Nomad's spent most of his time in the kitchen though. Tig was the only Son I haven't seen tonight and I hoped he didn't do anything to Kip either. Between he and Happy, I didn't know which was worse.
Donna came to get Kenny to fix him a plate for dinner and I took a seat in the armchair next to the couch. Jax was sitting with Abel in his arm and Tara on the armrest beside him, her arm around his shoulders. They've been close like that most of the night and it was nice to see them together. Wendy was a cushion away from them and she was longingly gazing at Abel, but I saw Tara glare at her from time to time as if warning the blond to stop staring.
Gemma came to me with a plate and we both managed to fit in the chair, giggling as we ate and swooned over little Abel. Out of nowhere, Tara turned Jax's head to face her and she kissed him, tongue and all, but she was looking at Wendy as she did. Someone was trying to get a message through. When she let Jax go, he stared at her for a minute, clearly shocked, but he was keeping his cool. I glanced at Gemma and she honestly looked surprised from her high eyebrows.
"Marci, wanna hold Abel?" Jax asked and I gave Gem my empty plate to swap seats with him. He gently handed Abel over and took Tara's hand, pulling her to the back of the house. Wendy got up to go in the kitchen and Gemma followed after her.
Abel's beautiful blue eyes were sweetly batting up at me and I noticed a bit of blond hair sticking out of his cap. He was the splitting image of his Dad. Most of the Sons came to see the newest Teller, but Dad, Clay and Opie were the only ones was willing to hold him. The rest of the men feared Abel would start crying or they'd get puked on. Kenny found me again and he showed Abel how to play with his action figures; Abel just wanted to stick everything in his mouth. Tara and Jax finally came back to the party, but she looked a little heated and headed straight for the door, slightly slamming it behind her.
"C'mon, sweetie." Donna called to her son and I looked down at the quiet boy. He was laying on my arm and he looked tired. "Let's head home and get to bed."
"But I'm not sleepy." Kenny groggily protested, yawning. "I wanna play with Marceline."
"You can play with her again, maybe after school tomorrow." She smiled at me.
Kenny hugged my arm and slid off the couch, going into his mother's arms. She picked him up and thanked me for keeping him company before heading for the door where Opie was with Ellie asleep on his shoulder. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and Gemma kissed Abel all over his chubby little cheeks before she left with Clay. I got up and found Jax in the kitchen with Dad, talking with beers in their hands.
"Marci, can I steal you for tonight?" Jax asked and I cocked an eyebrow. "Tara bailed on me and I'm terrified to be alone with him." I looked to Dad and he nodded. He finished off his beer and gave me a hug, giving Abel a peck on his head before heading out. "Mom already washed him, said I gotta feed him before bed."
"Did you make a bottle?"
"I thought he could just drink 2%, pop it in the microwave for a minute, but Tara bought...baby cans?"
"Baby cans?" Jax led me to the cabinets and opened one, revealing an entire shelf of Gerber Good Start Gentle formula with new bottles. "That's formula, Jax."
"Formula...for what?"
"For Abel. Since Wendy's not breastfeeding, it's substitute for the milk he drinks."
"But it's powder..." He trailed off and I almost laughed at how clueless he was about his own child. He really needed help though.
"Welcome to Parenting 101. First lesson, don't ever put regular milk into a baby bottle, warm it up and let him drink it."
"Got it. Next lesson?"
"I'm gonna show you how to make his milk." I gave Jax his son and he sat at the kitchen table, intently watching me. I took a can of formula and a bottle from the cabinet and set it on the counter next to the sink. "He should be good with 2 scoops." I said over my shoulder and he nodded, telling Abel to watch me make his yummy dinner. "Water, scoop, shake, done. Make a few for tomorrow."
"What about the pot?" Jax asked as I was shaking Abel's bottle. He gave me his son and I started to feed him, watching Jax's meticulous first attempt at making a bottle. "In all the movies with babies, someone always puts the bottle in a pot of boiling water and they test it on their arm. What's that about?"
"Christ above..." I sighed, shaking my head. "That's only when the bottle's been chilled and it's too cold. Always use warm water. And get some of that Aveeno baby lotion. There's something in it that helps babies sleep."
"Aveeno...water, 2 scoops, shake..." Jax muttered to himself and finished his first bottle. I checked it to make sure there weren't an lumps of formula and there weren't.
Jax was onto his second bottle and he seemed happy to be getting the hang of things. After a few minutes, Abel was finished with his dinner and I was patting his back to prompt a burp while Jax led me to the nursery. I sat in the rocking chair and started swaying with Abel, starting to hum Sweet Afton. Jax was watching us from the door and he wouldn't stop smiling, but I told him he was a creep for staring. Once Abel was asleep, I gently set him in his crib and cracked the door.
Jax said he'd crash on the sofa and I could take his bed. He led me to his bedroom and I sat on the comfy mattress, watching Jax rummage through his dresser for something the both of us could sleep in. With the moment, I decided to ask him what was going on with those new Prospects...and the old one.
"I met the other Prospect today." I noted and Jax gave me one of his white shirts with men's pajama pants.
"Miles?" He asked and I nodded. "Ope said he and Phil seemed like good Prospects. I've seen them around the clubhouse and they've both been to jail before, so they might be Son material."
"What about Kip?" I asked and he looked at me, his blue eyes suddenly barren of emotions. I didn't like that at all. "You said he was being replaced."
"And he has been."
"What happened to him? I didn't see him or Tig tonight. Did he..." I trailed off, not wanting to finish my sentence, but I knew Jax would catch the gist of what I couldn't say. He unblinkingly stared at me for a minute, then cocked his head to the side a bit.
"Thanks for helping with Abel." He dismissed me and my heart sunk into my stomach.
"Jax-"
"Goodnight, Marci."
With those strangely impassive and cold eyes, Jax left me in his room. When the door shut, it felt like the space was becoming increasingly smaller and the air was thinner as if there wasn't enough in the room. I didn't know if I should be sad or scared of what could've happened to Kip. I haven't seen him in hours and the Sons were acting like nothing was wrong, but there was.
I had to know if he was alright. I wasn't going to be able to sleep if I didn't know he was okay and living. With slightly trembling hands, I dialed Kip and mentally begged that he would pickup the phone, but the taunting rings kept filling my ear. A got a pang of hope when I heard the line click, but I didn't hear Kip's voice.
The automated message for a disconnected number relayed and my heart stopped.