Chapter 22:
"There is something about a closet that makes a skeleton terribly restless."
―John Barrymore

"So, your Dad remarried and you've got a stepmother?" Zane asked and even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

We were still standing in the aseptic halls of St. Thomas and our cheeks were pressed together as we hawk-eyed the unknown woman at Dad's bedside. I explained to Zane what an Old Lady was in terms of a Son, not that it was a complicated phrase, and he remembered seeing Gemma at the clubhouse, so I told him that she was Clay's Old Lady. I think I've seen the girlfriend or wife of all the Sons, but most of the men were single and seemingly prepared to be satisfied by the Crow Eaters until they croaked. Dad was no exception and I've noticed that he usually chases after the cute Latina sweetbutts.

"He and Rose never got hitched." I told him, frowning when the woman put her hand on Dad's cheek and began to stroke it. I should've asked Megan if anyone came to visit, but the Sons tag along with me when they want to visit Dad. Donna's only come by a handful of times and Gemma visited once, then said Dad would be just fine. "And he would've told me. Besides, he doesn't wear a wedding band and Juice told me he was getting a lap dance from some of the Crow Eaters before he got in here."

"Which one was Juice?"

"The Puerto Rican with the head tattoos. He would be Scrap's counterpart." For the first time since we spotted her, I took my eyes off the mysterious woman and looked up at Zane. He was nodding at what I just said and he looked down at me, his eyes asking what our next move was. With what's happened lately, I was in no position to trust a complete stranger and the possibility of that woman being family was null and void. We certainly weren't going to barge in there and bum rush her and as snazzy as Zane looked, I knew he was carrying, but we were not about to shoot up a hospital either. "Can you wait out here for a sec?"

"Sure, do what gotta do."

Zane went to sit in one of the few chairs scattered in the hall and he looked like he was already starting to doze off before I even had my hand on the knob. I wonder what had him so exhausted. I had bigger fish to fry right now, but I was going to interrogate him before we left. As quietly as I could, I pulled the door open and slipped inside. The woman didn't notice me yet, her body was turned more to Dad as she continued to run her thumb over his scarred cheek.

I've only touched Dad's scars when I was a kid. He told me that when I was a baby, way before I could talk or walk, that I used to scratch and tug at his cheeks because I thought I could take his scars off or something. I didn't remember that, but I did remember touching them when I was 6 or 7 and that was the day he told me someone wanted to hurt him so badly that they scarred him for life. The Monster Man. I wondered if that person was dead now, if Dad ever got his vengeance. I knew how defensive he was over them though and if he were awake, this lady wouldn't be touching him like that.

"That was one of yer faults, ya' know." The woman softly cooed and I instantly picked up on her accent. She was Irish, but I wouldn't have known that if she didn't say anything. She didn't exactly look like the typical green-eyed ginger woman inhabiting the Emerald Isle. "Ye'v gotta be one of the most rational and cautious men I've ever known, yet ya' get these foolish thoughts of immortality, thinkin' ye'v got the 9 lives of a cat...'specially when it comes to the club..." The woman lightly sighed, but I saw her small smile and she ran her finger along the scar on his cheek.

I really didn't want this chick in here now. She was talking about the club and it sounded like she knew what happened to Dad. For her to know all of this couldn't be good because I haven't spotted a Crow inked on her and this kind of news just doesn't travel around town like hot gossip.

Distrustful and cautious, I loudly cleared my throat and the woman's hand jerked back from Dad's cheek as she turned to me.

"Oh, I didn't know Filip was expectin' another visitor today." The woman didn't try to hide how she looked me over from head to toe and I crossed my arms over my chest, unperturbed by the sense of superiority in her brown eyes. She had the same slightly annoyed look Gemma would have when a sweetbutt got too close to her and I inwardly rolled my eyes at what I thought this woman's assumption of me was. A pretty young thing had her silly little head twisted by the Scottish Son and she'd follow him to the ends of the universe like an obedient puppy. I'd be surprised if she wasn't thinking that. For a second, she lost her look of superior regality and I saw something flash in her eyes that made her lips almost twitch into a frown, but she titled her head up to put her nose in the air and poked her chin out a bit. "I'm-"

"Leaving." I cut her off, my tone deadly and stale, and the woman cocked an eyebrow before lowering it to frown.

" 'Cuse me, lass?" She asked and she sounded like a parent discreetly telling her child to change their answer before they got their ass handed to them on fine China. Still, I was unaffected by her patronizing glare or her scornful tone.

"I don't know who you are, but I don't want you in this room or alone with him again."

"And just what gives ya' the right tae control if I'd like to come visit Filip a'gin?" She questioned and reverted to her former mask of placidity. She reminded me of Zane now, how I guessed he acted when he and Kip were left alone. I don't know why the hell she thought her pedestal was sky-high, but I didn't have a problem bringing her down a few notches. "Don't see a ring on yer finger and yer tummy's too flat tae be up the duff. Filip needs a woman to tak' care o'him, lass, an' that's just what I plan tae do."

"As his daughter, I'm sure I can give him all the love and care needed to nurse him back to health. And what I can't do, the Crow Eaters can handle. You're not needed here." I quipped back, clarifying that I wasn't one of the club whores or Dad's girlfriend, and after a second of bullheadedness, the woman's expression dropped again. Her mouth almost dangled open, but her brows were furrowed again and she was staring at me as if she couldn't believe I was standing 5 feet away from her.

"Daughter?" The woman said, though it sounded like she was trying to wrap her head around the word. "How old are ya', girl?"

"19."

"Oh Filip, you foolish man." She muttered, closing her eyes and shaking her head. With an exhale, she stood and grabbed her purse from the side of the chair. "I know when tae take my leave. Best wishes to your Da...I didn't get your name."

"Because I never told you."

"Ya' just might be his kin yet." She snorted, apparently in amusement because she smirked. She took a step to the door, but turned and went back to Dad's bedside. "A speedy recovery to ya', darlin'." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and I kept my eyes on her, as she did to me, as she left the room.

I went out after her and watched her walk down the hall, passing Phil, who looked like he made a trip to the vending machine from the soda can next to his foot and was now preoccupied by a handheld game, to the elevator. I didn't take my eyes off the woman until the metal doors closed her in and the light signaled that she was on the first floor. Something was telling me that wasn't the last time I'd bee seeing that lady.

I glanced at Phil and he inclined his head in question; I shook my head. He nodded and relaxed into the chair, going back to his game. In the seat next to the door, Zane's head was leaning back on the wall and he was out again. This time, I tugged on his hair to wake him up and after he yawned, he told me he was going to cut his hair off if I didn't give him a bun soon.

We finally went inside Dad's room and Zane went to find an unoccupied spot to set his flowers. The colorful bouquets, mostly being from Gemma, Donna and a few sweetbutts who really liked Dad, took up almost every surface and they weren't the cheap ones that died after a week. Taking my spot next to his bed, I took Dad's hand from his stomach and clasped it between mine.

"Hi, Da." I sweetly greeted him. "Zane's here. He brought you flowers. He's probably preparing to summon some ancient Chinese butterfly-god to crawl up your nose and grant you immortality." I heard Zane scoff and he was on the other side of the room, taking his jacket off. He slung it over his shoulder and quietly slid a chair next to me.

Like I usually did, I talked to Dad and told him anything I could think of in hopes that he'd respond in some way. Zane even jumped in and told some silly stories from back home. I usually stayed with Dad for an hour and Zane dozed off again when he finished his stories, so I let him rest.

The room was silent now. I've learned to mute out the beeping of the machines in the room and all I could hear was Zane's soft snoring or Dad's quiet breathing. I should've brought my sketch book along because I had a rosary drawing for Dad. I remembered the wooden one he always wore and I used as a teething ring when I was a baby.

A faint, throaty sound made my ears twitch. I looked over at Zane and he hasn't moved an inch from the slouched position he fell asleep in. My heartbeat picked up a few paces when I looked to Dad and heard the sound come from his slightly parted lips. His eyebrows were pulled together, twitching a bit, but he uttered that low groaning noise again.

"...Fi...na..." He muttered and I slightly tightened my grip on his hand.

"Dad?"

"...Fi..." He mumbled again. "...Fi...ona..."

Dad kept muttering the same thing for a few seconds and I was trying to understand what the hell he was talking about. I was about to dismiss his ramblings as the sedatives messing with his head, but I remembered the woman in here earlier.

Her name was Fiona.

With his words trailing off, Dad's face started to relax until it was set in its sleep-like state and I sighed. I pushed the button to call the nurse and when she came, I told her that he was talking a bit. She told me that was excellent progress and while she ran some tests, I woke Zane up. With a goodbye kiss on Dad's cheek, we left the room and Phil joined us when we left the hospital.

"You guys hear that?" Phil stopped to ask as we were headed to my car and I noticed Zane's was parked a few spaces down. I stopped, listened and the growing tingling of a wordless nursery rhyme began to fill the air.

"Sounds like an ice-cream truck." Zane noted and I glared at Phil and his huge smile.

"For the love of God, control yourself!" But it was too late. Phil grabbed my hand and started running, faster than a guy his size should've, towards the children's music and was dragging me behind him.

When we found the ice-cream truck parked on the other side of St. Thomas, Phil had enough decency to let the little kids get their treats first and he even gave a boost to a little boy that was too short to talk to the vendor.

"Lemme get those strawberry Sour Punch Straws, 3 packs of Gushers, a box of JuJuBes, a handful of Big Slice watermelon lollipops, 2 Pink Lemonade Airheads, a Choco Taco and...lemon lime Shots for the lady." I shook my head at the huge pile of candy on the stand and Phil looked over his shoulder at Zane. "You want anything, man? I'm buying."

"A pack of Appleheads would be nice."

"And a pack of Appleheads." Phil told the vendor who just handed him our ice-creams. He gave Zane and I our treats, but he went back to ordering more candy, so Zane and I went to find a bench to sit on.

"Let's go to the Zoo." Zane prompted, popping another green circle in his mouth. "Thought it'd be nice to hang out before I gotta go to work."

"What exactly is work now?" I nonchalantly questioned. A trip to the Zoo was always fun and I loved going to the area where the visitors could feed and pet the animals, but I had some questions for him.

"Didn't I tell you? MI6 inducted me into their organization. I just got back from a mission in Cuba this morning." I rolled my eyes at Zane and he smirked.

"You suck." I giggled and his smirk got bigger, some of his teeth showing, but I got serious again. "Really, Zane. What are you doing now? I overheard the Sons saying you run with some guy named Lin?" The playfulness in his eyes instantly died and his expression was replaced with that impassive and cold look that I hated. Zane looked away from me to set his eyes forward and I knew that was his 'I'm not talking about this' gesture, but I wasn't dropping it. I didn't want to be in the dark anymore. With him in California and the Spartans plotting, I wanted to make sure he'd be alright when he was off doing whatever it was he did now. "Hey, you can tell me or I can ask Clay."

Zane turned back to me with annoyance in his slightly narrowed eyes, but I just shrugged. I knew how much he hated anything considered gossip about him or people talking behind his back, but I wasn't bullshitting. During my stay at the clubhouse, almost all the Sons had Zane's name fall from their lips and whomever this Lin character was, but they never went into details. I knew it was a risky thing to ask Clay about it because it might be classified as 'club shit', but maybe Juice or Kip would tell me something.

"I sell things." I scoffed at Zane's simple answer and his eyebrow raised.

"You expect me to believe you're a car salesman?"

"Never said anything about cars." He smirked, but I didn't like this one. It seemed sly and deceitful, Agent Sthal's devious grin popping into my mind, and I frowned at it.

"And that narrows it down to 2 options. You're either A. slinging dope or B. a merchant in human trafficking. Now, which one's more profitable?"

"Trafficking." He answered and I looked at him like he was insane. He just shrugged. "Common knowledge."

"You've got tailored suits for everyday of the week, you're riding around in that flashy car, you wear watches that cost the same amount as a college tuition. Jesus, are you making and selling Coke?"

"The less you know, Marci...the less you know." He sighed and leaned back into the bench, running his hand through his black hair.

Christ help me, I wanted to punch him in his goddamn face right now and I had to continuously tell myself not to. I didn't like how sneaky he was being towards me. He's never been like that and honestly, it hurt a little. Zane's always been an open book with me, so long as it didn't have to do with the internal affairs of his former racing buddies and I understood that. He didn't want me to know about their illegal shit because that life was dangerous and bloody and I was better off not knowing. I knew he didn't trust the Sons, but did that mean he had no more trust for me too?

"Fine, Zane." I irritably spat and got up, chucking my empty container into the trash can next to the bench. He glanced up at me, but it was how calm and unaffected he looked that had my blood boiling. He looked like he didn't give a damn about anything and his arrogance was infuriating. "Fuck off and go mule your drugs, go roll around in your blood money, but don't expect a visit or phone call from me when you're in caged in Stockton."

With an annoyed groan, I turned on my heel and headed for the parking lot. The ice-cream truck was gone and I knew Phil was somewhere nearby, so he'd catch-up. I heard footsteps behind me and figured it was Phil, but I went into defensive mode when a hand closed around my elbow and was dragging me off in another direction. Before I could start screaming, I realized it was Zane.

"You want the truth so badly? Fine." He said without looking at me and we rounded a corner. Zane put my back to a vending machine and stood in font of me with the most somber, fraternal look on his face. "I'm not racing anymore. My cousin's name is Henry and he's he's the leader of an organized crime syndicate called the Lin Triad. They've got their hands tied up in all kinds of shit. Prostitution, money laundering, counterfeit rings, Heroin deals, gunrunning. They've even bought from the Sons a few times, but since you're so tight with them, you probably already knew that." I narrowed my eyes at his snarky comment, but said nothing. I actually didn't know for sure if the Sons were selling guns, but I knew now. "You wanna know why I'm so tired and why I can't visit you everyday? It's because I've been selling Heroin and we're not talking about just standing on the corner and waiting for some desperate tweaker to come buy. No, sweetheart. We sell pounds of it, suitcases of it, and I'm scared shitless to even text you after a deal because I clientele are insane and I don't want them seeing me with you because fuck only knows what they'll do." He chuckled, though it was fake and there was no happiness in his eyes or stony voice. "Are you satisfied now?"

"I didn't force you to come here." I sternly told him because it half-sounded like he was holding me responsible for his decision to become a hardcore drug dealer. "I didn't make you leave your racing gang. I never begged you to come here and start a new life of being a goddamn drug dealer. Those were decisions that you made on your own."

"I came to California and got involved with my crimelord of a cousin, who'd love nothing more than to see my head on a stick and you in one of his brothels, just so I could keep an eye on you and make sure you're alright." Zane's voice suddenly dropped to a docile one and his eyes were softened with concern. I held his amber-eyed stare for a second, but looked away when I started to feel those untitled emotions that we never spoke of. "Maybe I'm still adjusting to this new lifestyle or maybe we've changed, I don't know and I don't care." He continued and I glanced up at him. "I just want things to go back to how they were before, when everything was right. I wanna go back to when I didn't have to do this sharing bullshit with that fucking-" He stopped himself, shut his eyes and took a breath. "Why do I even try?" He mumbled to himself and sighed. When he looked at me, he had that blank, straitlaced look again.

Without so much as a goodbye or a parting glance, Zane stalked off and I sighed. There were so many emotions running through me and I just wanted to be dead for an hour, just to restart with a clean slate.

I heard Phil calling me and I followed the sound of his voice until I found him. He offered me one of his watermelon-shaped lollipops and we went to my car. I drove us to Teller-Morrow, figuring the Sons would need both their Prospects for some ridiculous task or a hazing session, and when we pulled in, some of the men were working in the garage. Phil split off from me as I went into the clubhouse and found Tig behind the bar, seeming to be keeping an eye on the group of hang-arounds and Crow Eaters mingling in the main area.

"Hey, dollface." He sweetly greeted me, smiling around his shot glass. "Chibs alright?"

"Yeah, he's pulling through." Tig nodded in approval and poured himself another glass of the dark-brown liquid. I flinched a little when he yelled at the groupies not to damage the green felt of the pool tables because 'that shit's expensive!' "Did my Dad ever mention having a lady friend, like, ever?"

"Your Dad's last relationship, as far as I know, was with with your Mom." Tig raised the glass to his mouth, but paused to think, then nodded to reassure himself and kicked the drink back.

"Oh." I hummed and grabbed the bottle, refilling his glass. "Does he talk about someone named Fiona?"

Tig violently choked on his drink and when he coughed it up, the alcohol came spewing from his lips. One of the sweetbutts rushed over to clean up the mess and she was patting Tig on the back until he settled and waved her away.

"Uh, you said someone named Fiona?" He asked and I noticed how much he was blinking, a nervous trait, but I played along and nodded. "No, he's never met her. I mean, one of those. Someone named Fiona, he's never met anyone named Fiona...yeah, no."

"Tig-"

"Marci, I'd love to stay and chat, but my shift's about to start. Stay in school, kid." With a pat on my cheek, Tig swiftly left the clubhouse and I was tempted to go corner him in the garage. He'd have to talk to me if I had a blowtorch to his throat.

Since I didn't see him in the garage, I wondered where Kip was and slid off the stool to head back to the dorms. His door was locked, so I figured he was out. I went to knock on Juice's door, but it sounded like he was preoccupied with a woman and I knew better than to disrupt a man getting off. Coming back into the bar, I saw Piney staggering from the Chapel and he smiled, big and wide, when he saw me.

"Hey, kiddo. How's the old potato doin'?"

"He's stable. He was close to waking up today, groaned and mumbled a little."

"That's good to hear." He nodded and I snickered when his head kept bobbing. Someone was a little drunk. Remembering Tig's weird reaction, my mind hatched a plan.

"Piney, where's your Old Lady, Opie's Mom?"

"Mary?" He pulled a disapproving face, muttering something that I didn't catch. "Haven't seen or heard from her since Ope got outta lockup. She helped Donna with Kenny and Ellie, then Ope came home and she skipped town."

"And what about Tig? Was some woman crazy enough to be his Old Lady?"

"Yeah, he got hitched...uh...Colleen. He's gotta pair of girls too, Dawn and Fawn. They're never gonna forgive him for their names." He chuckled and I smiled. "There's some pictures around here somewhere..."

With another incoherent grumble to himself, Piney headed towards the Chapel and I took a seat at the bar. I felt a tiny bit bad for taking advantage of his drunken state, but I wasn't hurting anybody.

When Piney came out, he had 2 small boxes stacked on top of each other and went around the bar, sitting them in front of me. He took the tops off and both boxes were filled with pictures. I saw the shot of young Gemma and John before Piney stared shuffling through the photos. He showed me pictures of Tig's dirty-blonde ex-wife Colleen, a black-haired woman and another with golden-brown hair, Dawn and Fawn, Tig's daughters. I smiled at the pictures of Opie and Donna's wedding and Piney begrudgingly showed me a picture of he and Mary, but he smiled when he found a shot of Opie and Jax as kids on their bikes. Big Otto got married too and there were pictures of he and his wife, Luann, who Piney informed me was the owner of Cara Cara, Charming's porn studio. Bobby got hitched too and I wasn't surprised when the woman, Precious was her name, was a blonde. They had a son that everyone called Tiki, but there were only baby pictures of the boy.

"I don't think I should ask if Happy's even had a steady girlfriend." I said, glancing up from a picture of the First 9 Sons to Piney.

"Only woman Hap's ever gonna love and put up with is his Mama." He chuckled and I smiled. I couldn't imagine Happy as a cheerful little kid getting chased around by a tanned woman though. "Quinn's gotta sister in North Dakota, God knows why she'd wanna live there, but he's never kept a lady for long. 2 months, at most."

"What about Kozik?"

"He had an Old Lady when he was still patched here, uh..." As if on cue, Piney grumbled to himself again as he thought. "Sandie." He sapped his fingers and looked pretty damn happy to have remembered the woman's name. "Ain't got no pictures of her, but she was one of those southern girls that belong on a goddamn farm."

"What happened to her?"

"Overdose, think she was a couple months pregnant too." He bluntly told me and he didn't look sad about it.

"Ouch."

"Yeah, it was a heavy price to pay. Koz used to be a Junkie, a hard Junkie. He started to sober up after that." That was surprising. I'd never picture Kozik as the kind of guy to get involved with drugs. If anyone, Tig seemed like he was on the kind of dope that turned someone into a goddamn psychopath.

"What about my Dad?" I asked, flipping through some photos. I didn't want to stray too far from the topic of Old Ladies because I feared Piney would forget what we were talking about. "He seems like the kinda guy that would've gotten married to the love of his life and started a family like John and Gemma did."

"He did." Piney agreed and my eyebrows went up in surprise, my heartbeat picking up. He shuffled the photos around and plucked one from the piles. He stared at it for a long minute and I tried to read what was written on the back in a black marker, but the handwriting was too sloppy for me to decipher. "Fiona and Kerrianne." Piney said and he nodded at the picture before flipping it over and showing it to me."Had to leave 'em in Belfast with that maniac, damn shame."

In the shot was Dad and he was younger than I've ever seen him, maybe younger than his mugshot on the wall. And his cheeks weren't scarred. He was smiling and he had his arm around a woman, a younger-looking version of the Irishwoman from St. Thomas. There were other Sons in the picture with them, but I didn't recognize any of them and I was looking for another girl because of what Piney said. He must've read my mind because he tilted the picture back a little and tapped on Fiona's stomach.

Things were starting to make sense now, some of it at least. Fiona really was at the hospital to take care of Dad, she obviously didn't know he had another kid because of her reaction...and I had a half-sister. I wondered what she was like, if she looked more like Dad or Fiona and if we'd get along. Now, I was kicking myself in the ass for sending Fiona away. I had so many questions for her and one of them was if I could meet Kerrianne before they went back to Ireland.

I looked up and Piney was helping himself to a bottle of Tequila, no glass needed, and I folded the picture to tuck in my pocket. The clubhouse door opened and Opie came in with Tara behind him, holding Abel. Tara said she was going to talk to Jax, then she'd readjust my splint and Opie was looking over the mess of photos spread on the bar.

"Where's your tank?" He asked Piney and the other man slurred something about his oxygen receptacle. I didn't even notice it was missing. "Jesus, Dad. You need to wear it. And leave Marci alone, kid doesn't wanna hear your old war stories."

"She was listenin'." He argued and Ope shook his head.

"That's because she's too nice to tell you to shut up." Opie smiled at me and reached over the bar to take the bottle away from his Dad. "C'mon Pop, get to bed."

With a bit of coaxing and empty promises, Opie managed to lead Piney out of the bar and to the dorms. I gathered all the pictures and put them back in their box. While I was waiting for Tara to come back, I unfolded the picture from my pocket and stared at it again. I was a little jealous at how happy Dad was because it'd take a miracle for he and Rose to be caught in such a close and cheerful position. Fiona was probably a great Mother to her daughter. She probably brushed her hair and had fairy princess tea parties with her. She probably tucked her in every night and gave her a kiss on the head with a sweet, 'I love you.' I could imagine how much fun they had going to malls and shopping for clothes and makeup.

Fiona probably did everything a mother was supposed to do with her daughter and then some and she had to have been the perfect wife to Dad. He probably told her he loved her everyday and I couldn't help but wonder what it would've been like if they were still married...

"Why couldn't you have been my Mom?"