Another long chapter 'cause I love you guys. The responses on the last chapter were so awesome! And yes, Zane is back!
Enjoy, loves
Chapter 18:
"...because the past was always around her and might return at any time. It prowled the world searching for her and she knew it was growing angrier at every passing day."
―Nicholas Sparks, Safe Haven
Once their escort arrived with someone to aid Marceline and the dead Drifter was stuffed in the trunk, they began driving to Turlock as requested. Zane didn't expect the driver to be his new boss, Henry Lin, but he didn't care because she was his main concern. During the drive, the physician was in the backseat tending to her wounds while he was intently watching from the passenger's seat. When they'd arrived at the motel, the doctor stayed in the car as Zane carried Marci up the flight of stairs and down the balcony to room 47, accompanied by the Chinese gang leader who was quietly following.
Henry shut the door behind him and took a seat in the armchair next to the slider window, unbuttoning the stud on his suit jacket. He watched his new outlaw use every ounce of tenderness when setting the redhead on the mattress, then he went into the bathroom and came out with a wet rag for her head. Zane watched her for a second, then sighed and pulled his bloodstained shirt over his head. He went into the bathroom again and Henry heard running water, so he was most likely cleaning himself up.
Henry's attention went back to the unknown female, wondering who she was and why she seemed so important to his thug. When Zane came to San Francisco, he made it clear that he didn't have any baggage and no family, which is how Henry preferred his members, yet a few feet away from him unconsciously lies a pretty little redhead that Zane obviously cared about. Henry stood and pulled the armchair across the room to the edge of the bed, leaning on his knees to get a good look at the chick. There were tiny cuts scattered across her face, but they were dried and cleaned, ready to heal. Under them, he saw freckles going across her nose from cheek to cheek and smirked, thinking they were cute, of all things. He didn't know how old she was, but she looked legal and he pegged her to be in her early 20s.
Trailing his eyes down, he frowned at the over-sized hoodie concealing most of her body from his inspecting eyes. He did get to see her legs though. When he'd picked them up, she was wearing pajama pants, but they were shredded and almost the length of shorts now. Surprisingly, the crash hardly bruised them, just a few nicks here and there. Tempted, he lightly trailed his fingers from her thigh to her knee and appreciated how soft women tended to keep their bodies. She was no exception, being hairless and having silky skin.
When he heard the water cut off in the bathroom, Henry removed his hand as he leaned back into the armchair and waited for his usually uncommunicative racketeer to rejoin them.
"This your girl?" He asked with inquisitiveness when his goon went to the opposite side of the bed and grabbed something under it.
"You could say that." Zane answered with his impassive voice, tugging a wife-beater on.
He glanced up to see Henry nod at his response, but his eyes were on Marceline. Zane could see the greed and hunger in Henry's eyes and he had to force himself not to tell his boss to stop staring at her like she was a piece of fucking meat. Instead, he took the opportunity to take the silenced Beretta 92FS from his bag and discreetly tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.
Zane pushed his ready-to-go bag under the bed and stood, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He shut his eyes when he felt a tiny sting and lowered his arms from his pecs to avoid touching the new ink there. Marceline would be so happy to see all the tattoos he's gotten since she left...all she had to do was wake up. He narrowed his eyes when Henry smirked at her and tapped his salt-and-pepper beard in thought. Zane lost his scowl before Henry turned to him with one of his flashy smiles and pointed to Marceline.
"She looks foreign." He indicated. "Bet she's Irish."
"Half Scottish." Zane calmly corrected.
"Tomatoe, tomato." Henry shrugged, his attention going back to Marceline. "Xiang has a girlfriend, Anastasia. 100% Greek. She is beautiful, couldn't help myself. We came to an understanding and now, she's one of the top girls at the Potero Hill cathouse."
Zane clenched his teeth together, nails digging into his palms, as he caught on to what Henry was proposing. He'd been on a few dealings with Xiang and he mentioned his girlfriend a few times, but Zane never thought he'd be cruel enough to sell her into prostitution. Zane knew that Henry almost always got a taste of the new merchandise before they were put on the market and he wanted to spit at the thought of him with Marceline. He didn't even deserve to be in the same room as her.
"She's not for sale." Still keeping the malevolence out of his voice, Zane hoped to end the conversation right there.
"Our clients tend to pay more for exotic merchandise." Henry continued, ignoring Zane's initial turndown. He's done this more times than he could remember and knew that it sometimes took a bit more convincing to get people to agree to his offer. Henry took a strand of the girl's satiny hair and let it glide off his fingertips, oblivious to the hostility radiating from the man on the other side of the bed. "Redheads are always in-style, au naturel of course." He smiled to himself and rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Xiang always goes to visit Anastasia and her work hasn't gotten in the way of their relationship. She's well taken care of too." He assured, glancing at Zane. "Think you can come up with a price for her? Try not to be greedy."
"She is not for sale." Zane reiterated and let a bit of belligerence coat his words as the final warning for his honcho. He might be working for Henry now, but there was a certain line he wouldn't allow anyone to cross and it was when Marceline was involved.
"Okay, Jesus. I was just making a business proposition, don't take it personally." In mock surrender, Henry put his hands up and gave Zane another one of his businessman smiles. He stood and felt Zane's eyes on him as he slid the chair back to the other side of the room. He was just about to leave when saw Zane sitting on the bed and his curiosity about what the girl meant to him was peaked again. "Do I need to worry about her?"
"I didn't know you had a heart, Henry. I'll be sure to pass along your concern when she wakes up." Henry chuckled at Zane's dry sarcasm, knowing that he wanted him to leave.
"I was referring to what happened tonight." He clarified. "A car wreck, a dead body staining the carpet of my trunk, you playing the heroic Prince that saves the damsel in distress."
"It was nothing." Zane dismissed and Henry lost his playful mood.
"I find that hard to believe." He controverted and Zane stared at Marci for a long second before he stood, slowly crossing the room to stand before his boss. "You've been working my Heroin deals since you got here and you're already one of my best guys." Henry's voice dropped to a stale and menacing tone, his dark eyes boring into Zane's lighter ones. "But just because we share a few branches of the same tree does not mean you get any special treatment. If this," He pointed to Marceline without looking at her. "Turns out to be something with a shitload of blowback and my guys start turning up dead, I will kill you and make her into one of my girls."
"Thank you for your help, Henry." Zane replied to his distant cousin in a robotic voice. "What happened tonight isn't anything you need to worry about and business will continue as it has been. I apologize about the blood in your car."
For a long minute, both men stared each other down in a primal act of dominance. Zane was proving that just because he was working for Henry didn't mean he had free reign on what little things he cared about in his life and he sure as hell wouldn't allow anyone to make Marceline into their plaything.
After another second, Henry smirked, telling Zane the body would be taken care of, and let himself out.
Zane was leaning on the railing of the patio to his motel room and shook his head at the place he was staying. He never liked motels, always thought they were cheap and only good for leaving one-night stands in. He'd have gladly paid $270 a night for a more refined hotel room on the other side of the city until the house he was moving into was fumigated, but this motel allowed him to easily see who was coming in and going out, so nobody could sneak up on him.
As he looked out into the entrance of the lodging that was covered in predawn light, he couldn't stop his thoughts from returning to last night and the sight of Marceline in that wreck. He thought he lost her or he feared that she would've died in his arms. That would've been his burden to carry for the rest of his life and he never would've forgave himself. It seemed like the airbags were the only thing that kept her from dying.
Marceline was still out cold and he'd been at her side, just watching her for any signs of her coming to. He checked the dressing on her head, ankle and wrist, propped her leg up on pillows, set a plastic bag of ice on her ankle and changed it when the cubes melted. He spent some time searching the internet for details of her injuries to know what dire symptoms he needed to look out for, but he had nothing else to do now. He couldn't help her wake up, though he desperately wanted to.
What worried him most was the possibility of having to take her to the hospital and discovering she'd sustained an internal injury and her lungs were filled with blood...the possibility that she could be dying in that bed.
Zane ran a hand through his onyx hair, uttering an irritated groan when his fingers were caught in a tangle. He's been trying to master this man-bun thing, but his attempts were futile. He smirked to himself as he thought of how Marci loved to do all kinds of things to his hair and was looking forward to having her fingers massaging his scalp. He almost sighed, but he looked over his shoulder when he heard the soft shuffling of the blanket. He stood in the frame of the door and attentively watched her, noticing that her elevated leg moved a mere meter from the position he set it in. Her eyebrows were pulled together, twitching as if she were having a bad dream, and her fingers did the same. It took another minute, but her eyes slowly started to peel open.
Marceline opened her eyes, but everything was a blurry haze and her steady blinks weren't helping to clear her vision. It felt like her ears were full of water and her body felt like it was being weighed down by sandbags. She felt sore all over, but she had a screaming headache. Ignoring the pain, she thought back to what happened with the Drifter. She remembered everything, hearing Diesel trying to alert her that something was awry, finding the Drifter, stumbling over Miles' dead body and those adrenaline-fueled moments in the van. She remembered the mysterious rider that was trying to get her away from the Drifter and the crippling fear of being in a car wreck before knocking her head on the window during one of the tumbles.
She heard a muffled, warbled sound, but she didn't know what it was. She heard it again and again and figured someone was trying to talk to her. Maybe she was at St. Thomas and the rider was a friend of the club. Hopeful, she looked to the side and saw the foggy profile of someone next to her. She stared at the figure and the first thing she recognized was dark hair and thought it was Tara. She mustered a small smile for the doctor, then involuntarily slipped back into unconsciousness.
~.~.~.~.
Marci woke again when the sun was high and filling the room. Unlike before, she could see more clearly, though not fully, but she noticed a small ringing in her ears. She still felt sore, but her throat was dry and she was hungry. She used her left arm to feel around the bed for the buzzer to call her nurse.
"Marceline?" Her ears twitched at a gentle tone. It was a man's voice, probably her nurse. "Can you hear me?"
"...yes..." She rasped, her voice dry. The nurse didn't ask her anything else, so she took a minute to get herself together and shut her eyes. She took slow, deep breaths and cleared her throat, but felt something brush against her chapped lips. She figured it was a cup or straw and opened her mouth, sipping the cooling water. She sighed as the cold liquid quenched her throat, but kept her eyes shut as she felt her body regaining strength. "I need to make a phone call." She requested.
"You need to rest." The nurse replied and she opened her eyes again to narrow them at the cream ceiling. She turned her head and scowled at the practitioner, but her eyes went wide when she saw that the man at her bedside wasn't wearing scrubs and his tattooed arm was bared. Her eyes flicked around the room and her heart dropped when she realized there were no medical machines monitoring her vitals. She wasn't at St. Thomas and Tara was never with her. "Marceline-"
"Don't come near me." She warned through clenched teeth. Against her tenderly aching body, she moved to the other side of the bed and kept her scowl pinned on the unknown man, hoping she looked as menacing as Happy. The man didn't back off and she continued to inch away from him until she was verging on falling off the bed, her arm going to the nightstand. Before she fell, the man grabbed her and her hand closed around something on the small table. She threw it at him, realizing it was a canister of pills. "Get away!" She screeched, using her unharmed limbs to push and hit at the man as he pulled her back to the middle of the bed.
"Hey, hey! Quit squirming, you're gonna hurt yourself!" Zane scolded and ducked another box of pills thrown at him. She was one of those women.
"I'm not going back to him!" Marci protested, despite the tears filling her eyes at the pain stemming from her movement. The only rational outcome she could think of was that whomever was on the motorcycle wasn't a friend and they were trying to finish what the Drifter started. "I won't let yo-mmph!"
"Listen to me." Zane hissed, finally getting Marci stationary under him, his hand on her mouth. His hair fell out of the pitiful knot he tried to put it in and she was glaring at him, but she wasn't flailing around anymore. "The Drifter is dead and I'm not taking you to Scotts Valley. You're safe. Now, I'm gonna take my hand away. Please, don't start screaming. Blink if you understand." Her eyes narrowed and he cocked an eyebrow in return, but he heard her huff, then she gave him a hard blink. Slowly, he lifted his palm and she didn't scream. As he sat next to her, he couldn't help but chuckle as he felt her eyes burning into the side of his head. "Christ on a crutch, you are something else. Did the Sons turn you into some badass biker chick, babe?"
"Don't you dare 'babe' me right now, Zane! You could've gotten yourself killed!" She chided and he smiled. That was the girl he missed. He realized she just said his name and looked at her, waiting for her to recognize him. Marci was still scowling at her beloved companion and how he could be so lighthearted about the situation. She was about to rip him another one when she actually looked at him. "...Zane..." She called, unconvinced that he was actually here. She honestly thought she was hallucinating or that she was dreaming, but he scooted closer to her and his warm hand went to her cheek.
Marci didn't try to stop the tears from falling and began to cry in joy. He was here, alive and safe and that's all she could ask for. Zane leaned forward to let her hug him, mindful of the patch on the side of her head. Once she calmed down, he gently detached her from him and coaxed her to lay back. He readjusted all the pillows he had behind her to let her sit up and was about to get her another cup of water, but she grabbed his hand.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, a few tears still gliding down her cheeks.
"...I was worried about you." He admitted, taking his eyes off hers to look at her hand on his bigger one. He couldn't look at her while she was crying, even if it was in joy, but he was never good at expressing serious feelings around her. "You didn't call or text me and I knew it was for the best, but I didn't know what was going on with you...I thought you were hurt or something..." He felt her weak grip on his hand tighten and glanced at her. She wiped her eyes and gave him a look that said she was fine.
"Do you know how hard it was to find you?" He scoffed, making her smile. He took a second to admire it before he started. "I know this hacker guy and I asked him to track your phone. He told me your last known location was the Belmond Villa San Michele in Florence. Now, something was telling me you weren't blowing 700 bucks a night on a hotel room, so I figured you were in Charming, then I had to find out where the hell that tiny town was." She giggled and nodded, accepting his short answer. She relaxed into the pillows, but she couldn't enjoy it because her stomach and throat began to burn. "Here." Zane already had a bucket in front of her face and it wasn't a second too soon because Marci upchucked her empty stomach into it while he held her hair away from her face. "That's from the concussion. The doctor said it was minor, but you need to eat something."
He had to go out and get her something to eat to let her take the medicine, but he didn't want to leave her alone. He also didn't want to take her to the Sons' base of operations because he was enjoying their reunion, but that was the best option. He'd asked his hacker friend to get him some information on Marceline's Dad and found out that he was a Son. He'd seen a few of them riding around Charming, but they were way too young to be her father. Then, he saw her riding with another member on a trip to the market and spotted the Drifter too, watching the man take down the van's license plate. He tailed the Drifter to her house, sabotaged the back door to the van he was using to give Marceline a chance to escape and, like a snake, waited for his chance to strike.
"What else?" Marci asked after Zane took the bucket and dumped it in the toilet, returning with another glass of water.
"Just a sprained ankle and wrist." He told her. "The handcuffs made it worse than it would've been and we're gonna have to go a hospital to let them x-ray your wrist. I got the swelling down some, but gauze isn't enough to properly heal it."
Marceline looked down at herself and noticed the wad of gauze tightly wrapped around her right ankle. She looked at her right arm, fearing that she'd never draw again and her aspiration of becoming a tattoo artist were null and void, but there was no dressing around her arm. Her left wrist was wrapped and she sighed in relief.
"You gotta take me to the clubhouse." She said. "I gotta tell the Sons what happened."
"Babe, you don't need to be up and moving around." Zane sternly opposed.
"They're going to tear this town apart looking for me."
"You have a concussion." He stressed. "You need to eat, take some painkillers and rest."
"They have a doctor on-call and rooms at the clubhouse. I won't be on my feet long, promise."
Zane stared at her with a look of total disapproval, but she smiled at him and pleaded with those beautiful green eyes of hers. Against his better judgement, he groaned and went to find his car keys.
"You okay back there?" Zane asked, looking into his rear-view mirror at Marceline lying across the backseats. He'd carried her out of the motel, strapped her in his Audi A5 and they'd been on the road about a half-hour. Henry had a standard when it came to appearances and his employees had to be up to par. That meant sharp suits and classy cars. Zane was never into luxury rides or ties, preferring his new Kawasaki ZX10r and jeans, but he bought the used 4-wheeler and a few tailored suits for the sake of image. He's been checking on Marci every 5 minutes and he only stopped at a gas station to get her a 4-pack of chocolate Ensures for her to take with the painkillers, but she seemed alright. "Am I going too fast?"
"You're going 15 in a 25 zone." Marci smiled, enjoying the warm breeze coming in from the windows as she sipped the chocolate flavored shake. She was only able to get through half of the bottle, but she was trying and the medication made her feel so much better.
Zane had both back windows rolled down and he barely put any pressure on the gas pedal because he thought she'd get motion sickness. He didn't care if she puked in his car because that'd give him a reason to get rid of it, but he wanted her to relax and be comfortable. He caught her dozing off a few times, but she never allowed herself to go to sleep.
"You never told me your middle name." Marceline noted, finally finishing the first bottle after an hour. Zane looked at her through his mirror and saw her smiling. "Seriously, what could possibly flow with 'Zane'?" She asked, giggling when she heard him scoff.
"I don't have a middle name." He replied, riding down Main Street and watching all the Charming inhabitants gawk at his flashy ride. That was exactly why he hated expensive cars, they drew too much attention. "Zane is my American name anyway. If I were to go back to Japan, nobody would call me that."
"Well, don't leave me in suspense. Tell me your name." She prodded and he didn't answer her right away. He continued the commute to Teller-Morrow Automotive and looked through the opened gate, seeing a line of motorcycles parked against a railing.
"In my culture, last names come first." He told her, parking the car as close to the clubhouse as he could. The Sons' setup was similar to how his old gang's was, minus the garage. He got out and opened her door. She was still waiting for an explanation and he smirked as he unbuckled the seat-belts. "Nanako Tadashi."
Zane leaned into the backseat and picked her up. He tenderly set her on her feet to see if she could stand on her own and she did, but she had a tight grip on his shirt. He curled his arm around her waist and fully supported her right side. He walked slowly with her and she wasn't protesting, but she stopped when she heard a noise.
Marci watched one of the garage shades get pulled up and Happy slipped out, headed for the clubhouse. She tugged Zane's shirt to get him to go faster, but he didn't move. 15 feet away from him was the infamous Tacoma Killer and she wanted him to approach the living legend? He'd only seen the man once before and that's when he was coming home from a race in Oregon. He warned him not to make Tacoma into a goddamn race track and when Zane returned to Scott's Valley, some of the men of his gang were talking about being approached by the notorious Tacoma Killer. Zane's never entered another race near or going through Oregon since that day.
"Happy!" Marceline called and the Killer stopped his stride to look over his shoulder. He caught sight of her red hair and was stomping over to her in both boiling anger and crippling concern, paying no mind to the guy she was hanging off.
"Where the fuck have you been?" He growled and Marci rolled her eyes. "We've been calling you since last night, Miles is dead and-" He stopped his venting when he noticed her tired glare and the cuts on her face, the gauze on her arm. "What happened to your face? And your arm? And who the fuck is this?"
"Happy, don't." Marci warned as he turned his attention to Zane. Happy looked at her with a scowl of his own, but lost it when he saw hers. Jesus, she looked like Gemma.
Against her warning, Happy sent another glare to Zane and gently grabbed Marceline's un-bandaged arm to pull her into him. He hooked his other arm under her legs and started for the clubhouse again, hearing the chink following them. From the way he was dressed, he looked like one of Lin's guys. He didn't want to know how the hell his niece got involved with the Triad.
All the Sons were in the clubhouse waiting for the Nomad to join them before Church started. They'd just gotten out of Charming PD's custody not too long ago and their Old Ladies or sweetbutts took the time to clean up their men. Kip refused to let anyone touch him because he wanted to know where the hell Marceline was. Once they were walking free, he called Miles, but got no answer. Accompanied by Juice, they drove to her house and the door was already cracked open. Guns out, they crept inside only to find the missing Prospect laying in a dried puddle of his blood with a knife sunk into his throat. Kip went searching for Marceline, but found her room empty and her gun was still under her pillow. He immediately panicked, thinking one of LOAN's guys abducted her.
He'd only gotten back to the clubhouse minutes ago with news of Marci being missing and finding Miles dead; Diesel was lying at his feet. He spotted the pit running wild a few blocks from his home and managed to keep the dog on his motorcycle as he drove to the clubhouse. He had no idea what the hell could've happened last night because Diesel would soon run though Hell twice if it meant keeping his owner safe. The dog refused to eat any of the lunchmeat and water Gemma offered him. He had his head on Kip's foot and he could feel his whine from time to time. He was worried about her too.
For the first time since Kip brought him in, Diesel picked his head up and barked at the door. All eyes were on Happy as he came in with the girl in question cradled in his tattooed arms. Immediately, everyone in the room flocked them and the questions were nonstop. Marci tried to tell them that she was fine and that if it weren't for Zane, she'd be back in Scotts Valley. The Sons got one look at the man and pulled their guns, not in a position to trust a stranger. Juice defused the situation, clarifying that he was a friend. He remembered Marceline pointing out this man on his computer.
Happy placed Marceline on a nearby sofa and Kip was at her side with Diesel. She told her tale and everyone seemed to be relieved that LOAN hadn't tried anything. Once all the details were put together, Clay reiterated the need to have Church to discuss their problems. He told Kip to stay with Marci and ensured the youngest member that he'd be brought up to speed on what their next move would be.
Kip finally allowed Gemma and Donna to tend to the wounds he got from last night's brawl, then the Queen went to inspect Marceline. Tara was out with Phil getting more supplies and she'd have to look at the bones hiding under the gauze when she came back, but Marceline didn't look too bad. Gem had to hand it to the redhead, she was a tough little bitch, just like she hoped. She shooed the sweetbutts out of the clubhouse and pulled a hovering Donna into the kitchen to prepare something light for Marci to eat.
After a prolonged hour of Kip smothering Marceline in concerned affection and sweet-talking her into eating a bowl of soup, the Sons wrapped up Church. Clay, being flanked by Kozik and Tig, asked Zane to step into the Chapel. Marci wasn't worried about them questioning Zane because he could hold his own, but the dark look in Sons' eyes were making red flags go up.
Suddenly, the clubhouse door slammed open and a panic-stricken Chibs rushed into the bar. Juice was the one to call and inform the Scotsman that Marceline was MIA. He was in the middle of a drink with some of the club's Irish associates, prepared to destroy his liver for the sake of maintaining a good relationship and obtaining information, when the Intelligence Officer called. He was only supposed to stay upstate until tomorrow morning and he was planning on checking-in with his daughter later, but he dropped everything and rode like a bat out of hell back to Charming.
"Marceline!" He spotted his bruised daughter on the couch with Kip and relief filled him. Marci pulled herself up into a sitting position and held on to Kip's shoulder to push herself up until she was standing with his support. "Jesus Christ, ya' had me halfway in my grave. What the hell happened?"
"Oh, now you decide to give a shit about me?" She asked, unmoved by his concern, with narrowed eyes. "It takes some deranged mercenary breaking into your house, killing one of your Prospects, abducting and almost killing me for you to spare a thought about your daughter?"
"Mercenary?" He asked, still confused about what happened. He knew about the fight that went on last night, but he would've thought LOAN was behind her kidnapping. They probably were, but she hasn't seen the members. "Dovey, tell me what happened last night."
"You left me again!" She snapped, disregarding his question, and Chibs slightly flinched at the intensity of her voice. Such a stentorian sound would seem impossible to come from the small girl. "Just like you abandoned me with that sadistic bitch!"
"Everybody out!" Gemma ordered and immediately, every Son piled out of the bar to go into their respective rooms. She glanced at Kip to make sure he wouldn't leave, then took Clay's hand as he led her to his dorm.
"I didn't leave you." Chibs tried, confused at her sudden spurt of exasperation.
"Yes, you did!" She objected. "You went fuck knows where and you didn't even have the decency to tell me you were leaving, but you don't care, do you?! Just like you didn't care when your fucking girlfriend was using me as a goddamn punching bag!" Marceline was panting now, her blood boiling. This was the way he'd know about Rosemary's sadistic side and the pain she was put through in his absence. This wasn't the way she planned for this conversation to happen, through antagonistic words and rage, but it was already out and nothing was going to stop her now. "From the day you left, she was taking out all her anger on me! She hated me because of you!"
"Dovey-"
"Everyday for 8 years, she hit me and kicked me and threw bottles at me! She never stopped! I'd scream until my face was red and cry for hours, begging her to stop, but she never did!" She was hysterical now, gasping and beginning to cry at the same time, yet managing to keep her voice stern and powerful and coating her words with a venomous sting. "She threw me down the stairs and broke my arm! She slammed my hand into the door! She tried to burn my hair off! She came at me with knifes! She almost smothered me to death while I was sleeping! She tried to drown me in the tub! She locked me out of the house for 3 days with no food or water or a blanket or even a bottle to piss in!"
"Marceline, please settle down." Chibs pleaded in his most gentle tone, noticing that she didn't have control of her breathing and how she was struggling to get enough air into her system. He slowly stepped before her and put his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to pull her in for a hug as Kip slipped away. He felt her violent trembling and noticed how hard it was becoming to keep himself from breaking down.
This was only the second time she'd ever said anything about Rosemary, but he knew something was amiss when she initially refused to talk to him about her. Until she'd popped up at the clubhouse, he'd all but forgotten about his second pair of girls he left behind for the club. He hadn't seen Rosemary since before he'd started Prospecting for the mother charter and he only came back to her house for his daughter, but those visits were scarce. He'd gotten patched-in just before the Mayan War and it was too dangerous for him to constantly check on his little girl. The last thing he wanted was for him to visit the little family he'd managed to create and come back to find them slaughtered, so he stopped going to see her. He didn't intend to cut off all connections with her for 10 years either. He wanted to take her away as soon as the war was over, but there was so much to clean up and he had to prove his worth to his club.
On the rare chance that he got a second of free time, he phoned Rosemary, knowing she'd keep the Burner he left with her for emergencies, and he told her to bring his daughter to Charming. He wasn't willing to try to reconcile with her because he didn't love her. He never had any deep feelings for her. Since he'd come to the States, he found that she was the one woman that didn't remind him of Fiona and that's why he was blinded by an ersatz honeymoon phase, thus creating Marceline.
At first, he was conflicted about having a child with someone he didn't love and he felt like he was breaking a moral or religious dogma by doing so, but he saw the beautiful eyes of his baby girl and the bond was made.
But Rosemary swore on her life that she packed their shit and moved to Rhode Island to live with her mother, that they've been there for years, and that she had another man loving her and raising his daughter because he was a deadbeat. He tried calling back, but the line was disconnected. He had no other option than to believe that she wanted nothing to do with him and that she'd taken his daughter away.
"Why would she do that to me? She was supposed to love me..." Marci sobbed, completely distraught, in a voice that instantly eradicated the million of walls Chibs always had up to prevent anything or anyone from getting anywhere near his feelings. Her hitching breaths were met in 2 quick gasps and when he forced himself to look into her reddening, glossy eyes, he was unable to stop the pair of tears that slid down his cheeks. His throat began to burn with strain as he tried to coerce himself back into his usual unbreakable state. He cupped her wet cheeks and she latched onto his wrists as she looked into his eyes, but he could tell that she wasn't all the way here, as if a part of her was stuck in the past. "Why didn't you come back?" She questioned, her voice falling to a mouse squeak and laced with an unforgiving despondency. "You left me with her...for 8 years...and she tortured me...she was trying to kill me..."
"I'm so sorry, Marceline." He expressed his regret for her suffering, wishing he could go back and prevent her from enduring that nightmare.
"You left me!" She screeched, shoving him away. Without his support, she was unbalanced and he caught her wobble, as if she were about to faint, but she smacked his hands when he reached out for her. He noticed her wrapped ankle and gauze on her head. He knew she shouldn't be up, but she flinched away from him when he tried to grab her again. "You...you left...you...abandoned me..."
"Dovey, you've got to settle down." He tried the compassionate approach again. He didn't know everything about her Anxiety, but from the road she was on, she'd gone and emotionally triggered an attack. He'd researched the Librium she was taking and how well it would help her condition, but he never had to deal with one of her attacks. He honestly didn't know what to do to help her.
Zane was silently watching the altercation between the father and daughter from a bar stool, finally being able to meet the only family Marceline had. He noticed that their eyes were chillingly similar. This is the man she'd come to Charming to reconnect with and now that he thought about it, this must've been who they'd be waiting on her front steps for year after year. The man was missing from her life for 8 years and she still had hope that he'd come back.
He thought that they would've reconnected and been happy, but she was screaming about an prolonged episode of maltreatment that he, nor her Dad from the look on his face, had no idea about. What he did know was that Marceline had triggered an attack and from the looks of it, she was on the verge of passing out. Her Dad was rooted in place with a shocked and pained expression. Didn't he know what to do?
Zane quickly crossed the room and turned Marci to face him. She was hyperventilating, but her sobs were making it next to impossible for her to breathe. She'd never gotten this worked up before and he was a bit scared himself.
"H-He left me again." She cried. "He left me w-with her...he left..."
"Marceline, you have to calm down." He instructed in the lulling tone that always got her settled. She didn't lose the wildness in her eyes and his hands went to her cheeks, making her focus on him. "Listen to me, Rose is dead. She can't hurt you anymore. You're safe."
"S-She's gone..." She squeaked and he could hear shaky attempts at trying to inhale.
"That's right. She's never gonna hurt you again. Just breathe, Marci. In and out. You're okay."
"D-Don't leave...please..." She pleaded in a childlike voice and Zane's heart hardened to stone at the sound of her despairing tone. He was never going to abandon her, especially not after hearing what her childhood was like.
"I'm right here, babe." He assured her.
Zane kept telling her comforting words and after a few minutes, she was out of the paralyzing hold of her anxiety. She was still sobbing and he wrapped his arms around her to let her bawl into his chest as he rubbed her back. She was shuddering and the trembles were almost enough to make him shake with her. Chibs looked on as the unknown man, whom he guessed was Zane since he knew how to comfort her, calmed Marceline down and hated himself for not being able to help her.
Kip silently watched the incident too, discovering that his girlfriend had some kind of panic disorder. He wondered why she never told him about it, but was more concerned about Zane. He knew what to do with her, knew how to get her settled and what words to say. He narrowed his eyes when Zane whispered something in her ear, stroking her hair. He didn't have to touch her so goddamn much.
"She needs to go to a hospital." Zane said over Marci's crying, looking at Chibs. The Scot took a second to compose himself, quickly wiping the sneaky tears from his cheeks. "She's got sprains and a concussion."
"Sack, call Tara." Without taking his eyes off his daughter, Chibs sent Kip a nod and obediently, he called Tara and asked her to meet them at St. Thomas.
Marceline was still clinging to Zane for dear life when Chibs went to get the van stared. Zane cradled Marci in his arms as she continued to bawl into his neck, never releasing her hold from his shirt.
Chibs, Zane and Marci were in the van as Kip rode in font of them as an escort to the hospital. When they got there, Tara was waiting at the doors and after seeing Marceline, she sternly commanded the receptionist to call down someone to service the girl and her demands were swiftly met. A team of doctors got her on a stretcher and they had to give her a small dose of Brevital to get her to part from Zane. He told them about her injuries and made up a story about being the concerned friend that knew she was in an abusive relationship with her cantankerous boyfriend.
The trio of men were led into a family-only waiting room and Tara went to change her clothes, ensuring Chibs that she'd be right there with Marceline. Chibs decided to step into the hall to call the Sons and get them up to date as well as take a minute to wrap his head around what Marci was screaming at him. He knew Rose tampered with drugs and alcohol. How long she was hooked, he didn't know because he never bothered to ask. He did know that she could get violent when she didn't get her routine fix because the 9 months of her pregnancy were shaved down to 7 months and 2 weeks due to her relapsing. Once Marceline came into the world, Rose just barely did her job as a mother by feeding, bathing and changing her daughter's diapers, but she'd hand the baby over to him as soon as she was done. When Marci was old enough to walk and talk, Rosemary seemed to resign as Mother and left Chibs to be a parent. At the time, he didn't care about her coldness towards his daughter because if there was a way to get Marceline without having Rosemary in the picture, he would've taken that path. He was beginning to feel the weight of guilt weigh his shoulders down and he knew he wasn't going to sleep easy tonight.
Kip and Zane were left in the waiting room. The gears in Kip's mind were cranking about the man sitting across from him and the part he played in rescuing Marceline last night. He was the 'hero' that saved her, yet he doesn't have a scratch on him. Hell, Marci looked like she fended off her abductor and saved herself. He wasn't entirely convinced on Zane's valiant rescue and he had a lot of questions, but he wasn't going to ask any of them, not right now. He knew Zane was going to talk to Clay when Marci was able to get out of here and he'd start his interrogation then.
"Once we get the news on her condition," Kip broke the silence with his most serious tone and Zane took his eyes from the magazine covers on the table to look at the blue-eyed man. "We're gonna go back to the clubhouse and you're gonna talk to Clay about what happened last night, then you can get back to your life."
"I'll talk to your President, but I'm gonna stick around." Zane replied in a composed, yet defensive voice. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on her."
"I'm her boyfriend. I can take care of her."
"Right. And where were you when she got kidnapped?" He asked in a light tone, though Kip detected the sarcasm his stolid words held. Kip didn't answer the question because he knew better than to go running his mouth about club business to some arrogant stranger.
"What's her favorite flowers?" Zane asked after a few beats of silence and the question caught Kip off guard.
"What?"
"Marceline." Zane elucidated. He picked up a Game Informer magazine and flipped through the pages, looking for any new videogames that he could get for Marceline while she was on bed-rest. "What are her favorite kind of flowers?"
"Take a guess." Zane encouraged, though his voice held no warm support.
"Roses." Kip answered, though he honestly wasn't sure if that was the right answer. Most women adored getting bouquets of red roses and they symbolized love and romance, so why not?
"White Anemones and coral Poppies. She used to get bouquets of them from her neighbors." Zane answered his own question with a short sigh, unperturbed by the Son's unlettered answer. He didn't take his eyes off the article he was reading about a review on a new game he thought Marci might like when he continued his questioning."Do you know how tall is she?"
"What is this?" Kip huffed, disliking how Zane thought he had the right to interrogate him on his girlfriend.
From what Marceline told him, Zane was someone she was close with in her hometown and he participated in illegal street racing. She never told him if they were in an exclusively platonic relationship or if they dated before and broke up, but remained good friends. He could understand if Zane was grilling him because he was a close friend and wanted what was best for her considering the circumstances in which she fled to Charming.
But if he was an ex-boyfriend that couldn't let go, he'd gladly beat his goddamn face in because nobody was going to take his place as Marceline's man.
"I'm just curious." Zane phlegmatically replied, sounding like he was bored. He glanced over the top of the magazine at Kip and was thankful the magazine covered his face from his nose down because he was smirking at the irritation in the Son's eyes. "You said you're her boyfriend and that you take care of her. You should know a lot about her then."
"I do." Kip defended.
"Then how tall is she?"
"5'3."
"She's 5'4 and a half." He corrected with a shake of his head and Kip narrowed his eyes. "Do you even know what her middle name is is?"
"Caitríona, but everyone says 'Kait-rhee-own-ah' and it annoys the shit out of her." Kip spat back with smugness, a rectifying tone in his voice. "Her best friend's name is Jasmine Noellé Haydon and she lives in Lodi. Her favorite cartoon is Ren & Stimpy, her favorite movie is Alice In Wonderland and so is her favorite book. Her favorite snack is shortbread with cold coffee or pink lemonade and her favorite food is lasagna. She's always wanted to go to Shreveport, Louisiana and take a tour through one of their swamps. She hates when people fuss over her. She's been arrested 4 times, she hates walking around barefoot and she always sleeps with her back to the wall. She's a Taurus, she wears a size 5 in shoes, a 4 in dresses and the last picture she drew was of a Little Sister from Bioshock 2." Kip triumphantly smirked to himself upon seeing Zane's eyebrow quirk. Bet you didn't know half of that, asshole.
He listened to everything Marceline told him and knew her like the back of his hand. He'd picked up on her traits and habits, but there was still a lot more he had to discover about her. Her mother was obviously a sensitive subject that he'd try ease into as gently as he could, but he was going to talk to her about whatever caused her to almost black out when she was telling Chibs off. Seeing her so out of it and being unable to tame her emotions troubled him because, like her father, she was always composed and had her feelings on a tight leash.
"Don't try to tell me I don't know my own girlfriend." Kip warned, his voice a solitary octave from becoming a growl.
"Obviously, you don't." Zane stated matter-of-factly and Kip almost allowed himself to get up and punch the other man square in the jaw. He was sitting over there acting like a superior prick and after Zane tossed the magazine on the table, he was berating Kip with his amber-eyed glare. "All those things you said don't mean shit unless you know how to prevent her from fainting, which you clearly don't. Since you're completely clueless about it, I won't ask what you do when she's suffering through a Panic Attack, but what do you do when she has nightmares, ones about her Mom or of the psychopath she ran away from? You're her compassionate and loving boyfriend, so tell me. What do you do when you wake up and find her crying in her sleep?"
Kip went silent again and Zane allowed him to process that information. He wasn't making that up either. He's woken up in the middle of the night to Marci's fearful whimpering and quiet cries a few times. He'd hear her mutter her mother's name and thought she missed her, unknowing about the abuse, or he'd hear Gage's name and knew she was terrified. He knew better than to wake her up, so he simply held her close to him and whispered loving words into her ear. Just like when she'd have an attack, she'd calm down in minutes.
He didn't like the fact that her own father and the Son before him, who claimed to be her devoted boyfriend, didn't know the first thing in mediating one of her attacks. They both just stared at her like she was a goddamn alien. Knowing that, he sure as hell wasn't just going to leave her with these people. They couldn't even protect her from the Drifter. He didn't have an initial plan for when he'd find her in Charming, but he hoped things could go back to the way they were before she left. He missed her like crazy and it was clear that he was the only one with the slightest clue about how she functioned. Honestly, he wanted her to move in with him as soon as possible. She'd be happy and safe with him, he'd make sure of that.
When Chibs rejoined the younger men, he noticed Zane and Kip were shooting flaming daggers at one another. He didn't have to ask to know that something had to have gone on with his daughter and the amber-eyed man if he risked his neck to rescue her last night, but he didn't know how having the man around Kip would turn out because of the attachment he had to his daughter. The night of his patch-in, his trainee told him that he was in love with Marceline and that he would do anything for her. Those were words a Son would say about his Old Lady and Chibs thought back to the day Marci asked him if he wanted her to be an Old Lady someday. He mentally kicked himself in the ass for not catching on to the whole thing before he caught them in Kip's dorm.
As the older man sat down, he nudged Kip in the knee with his own and gave him a look that warned him to keep his head. He remembered the way Kip suddenly lost his head on his Fight Night and figured out it was because of Jax flirting with Marci. He didn't even take Jax's flirts with his daughter seriously because Marceline didn't seem uncomfortable and he knew VP was just joking with her anyway. Kip was different though. The boy had something he really wanted and he wasn't going to let anyone, not even a patched member, take it away from him. Chibs thought that was very compassionate of him.
After almost 2 hours, Tara poked her head into the room and the men simultaneously stood, but she pulled Chibs outside. She gave him the rundown of his daughter's condition. They'd given her a CT Scan for her concussion and thankfully, there was no internal bleeding or damage to her brain or skull. She didn't have any broken bones, she had to wear a splint for the next few weeks and her ankle would heal if she stayed off it, kept it wrapped and had a cold compress on it. With lots of rest and relaxation, she'd be just fine.
Chibs thanked the young doctor and Tara, with boldness that she had to have inherited from being around Gemma, flat-out asked if Marceline was targeted by an enemy of the club. Chibs honestly didn't know what to tell her, unsure if her abduction was on LOAN's part or from the MC she ran away from, so he didn't answer her. Tara's lips went tight and she shook her head in disgust at his silence.
For as long as she's been involved with Jax and known the members of the club, Chibs and Bobby were the methodical and sensible ones, or so she thought. She knew how much the Sons appreciated and valued their families, but a Son's 19-year-old daughter had a goddamn concussion because someone was trying to hurt the club. She'd come to think of the teenage girl as family, just as Gemma and Donna had, and her concern was matched with a mother's protective anger at the sight of the sweet girl lying in that bed at the expense of having a Son as her father.
Tara told Chibs that the doctor was keeping her overnight to monitor her condition and emphasized the need for Marci to be in a stress-free environment for proper recovery, then briskly left him in the hall.