Filler chapter! As usual, Kurt Sutter owns that you recognize from the SOA TV show, and I own my own characters. That's it. Read! Go on!
Everett genuinely cannot remember the last time she had fun at one of these parties at the clubhouse. Maybe she never did at all, that would be consistent to what memories she kept of her mother, so maybe, just maybe it was genetic? Can boredom be genetic?
Then again, it was very hard to find some enjoyment in her father's farewell party. He seemed to be enjoying his last good times with the Sons, his wife too, but Everett just sat there miserably, suckling on beer after beer. After beer. The wish that Sailor was her birth mother was there, again. Maybe she would be a more balanced person, like King, or Florence. But not Maddie, tainted she was, that one. Crazy, but in a cool, has a lot of friends/is popular/everyone finds her endearing way. Not a lunatic.
"Hey, Stars! You gonna tattoo me?"
No please, no thank you, what's wrong with these people? She still nods, heads to her father's old room to pick up the things she needs to tattoo Lawrence, she should work on his back piece, it has been a while. Don't be a bitch and write something on there that she'd regret. Like "miserable cocksucker", she was still very much bitter about this enforcer bullshit, even if it had been almost a week. If he passed out right now she would put a dick and balls on his forehead. But Lawrence seldom drank, he was a tool like that. And his wife Emma, Jack's mother was all over them, as if Everett would hold any sexual interest to this old meat sack that looked like an ape to her. The only thing that could even remotely be of interest to her was his height. She liked them tall.
Across the room, Rain smiled at her as he was engrossed in conversation with some croweaters, Rain didn't smile. So she must have been having a perma-bitch face as she was putting some ink to Law's back. It looked good, she did good work. Her dad had been teaching her his art for a decade, there, and she knew what she had to do.
It was nearing eleven when she decided she was done for the night and maybe just tonight, she'd stick to two beers and still have the balls to grab Rain Queen and bring him upstairs to his little room there, and screw his little brains melted. It was something she was toying with, since their moment on the roof of the apartment complex, but she was hesitant to give in to that. She certainly did not want to owe her potential spot as a Son because she had been sleeping with a member. Because she was second generation, yes. Because she was carrying the second/third generation, hell to the fucking no.
Instead she headed to the bar and had a third beer, and struck conversation with a half-wasted girl that would have been DTF had she not been so sloshed, Everett could have went for it; the girl looked half-decent, but knowing how many dicks had transited through there, knowing her dad probably stuck it to her at one point warded her off. She would have to wait for a new batch of croweaters if she did not want to commit incest by proxy.
"Stars? Someone here for you" now what? She left the croweater at the bar after getting handsy a bit but making it clear that it would not go past breast fondling and headed towards the door, whoever wanted something to do with her.
It was that time of the year again? No, it was nowhere near December, she thought as she set her dark brown eyes on her ex, Martin, the douche cut his hair, it was the only thing she still found remotely cute about him after so long.
-Did you sign my fucking divorce papers already?
Because enough was enough was enough. Four years she had been trying to be divorced. Almost five years she had moved out of his life. Never called, never wrote, never cared but he still showed up periodically to make her miserable.
-Could this night be any shittier, man?
-Please, come home. We need you.
-Holy fuck, man, move on! Get a fucking life already. I thought I made fucking clear when I left that I wanted nothing to do with you. Sign the fucking papers, take half my fucking money and fuck off, Mart!
Oh, screw that. Came a moment in a girl's life where nothing sent a message across better then a broken beer bottle to the face, a few facial scars to remind you never to stick your dick in crazy and a good old restraining order. Why had she cared in the first place anyways? Life's too short.
But as she is a few inches away from slashing his face really well, two things stop her. Three.
First, the cops would show up and ask questions. Second, she would have to clean up the broken glass and bloody mess on the floor. Plus it would kind of spoil a bit of the fun of the party. And third, his green eyes. His mother fucking green eyes. He looked near tears. Not that she cared a lot. That she didn't love him anymore, didn't mean she could just play surgeon on his face. He had always done the best he could.
-Fuck off, Martin. Go home. Stop coming here unless you're giving me my divorce. I mean it.
She turned around after dropping the bottle, she would take her jacket and leave, maybe go for a ride and find a random dick to go to bed with. She had gotten good over the years at pretending she was banging Randy Coin, in her head. She had already banged him about a hundred times. In her head.
But Martin grabs her by the wrist, and the freaking "sappy movies, romantic at heart"asshole pulled her to him, their lips collided, literally, she had a sensitive nose because of the climate here, and now she would probably have a nosebleed. Way to be romantic, asshat.
Everett did not want to kiss him. At all. So she started clawing at him, enough that he would get the message to take a long walk off a short pier, but not actually enough to injure him. Martin. He'd been a hang around, forever ago, but it just hadn't been the life for him. He just wanted to ride his bike for fun. He was a Sunday rider. Back then, before she had beef with the whole world, she had seen herself being with him for a long time. Now it all just seemed childish. A teenage crush taken too far with marriage. He had to parted with the club very amicably, but the break up with the Lowman clan had been nothing short of disastrous.
Now she just wanted to be divorced from him, so she could maybe marry somewhere else. Maybe Rain, if they got there, once she became a Son. She would love to marry Rain. He was quiet, he was nice, he didn't have too much baggage, two ex-wives but no kids, he was loyal and he made a pretty penny with the gym he exploited north of downtown Marseilles. No house, but he lived in the same apartment since his first divorce had been finalized. For Randy Coin she would fill up all the paperwork to change her name. Not for Martin Depardieu, not for Daniel Thomas, but for Randy Coin she would.
Her jacket is grabbed, as well as a rag to shove under her nose, she is indeed bleeding like a pig, outside, she hides behind a low wall for a while, at least until she's done bleeding and she is sure that Martin is gone, before getting on her bike, she'll catch a few hours of sleep, then she would probably take a few days, go to Paris. Maybe visit her grandmother's grave, and Maddie on campus in college.
Everett knocked on the door, tough she immediately regretted doing so or coming here in the first place when she heard Maddie squeal from the inside of the campus apartment; something she could not make up from outside, but the door swung open, and her nineteen years old sister just jumped her, climbed her like a damn octopus while using that baby voice at her, the one Sailor used at the dogs.
-Ah you're here ermahgerd, yuh here! Mah sista ist hurrr!
-What is wrong with you?
-Mon sisi! Mon sisi is le visit me! Erhmahgerd!
-English, motherfucker!
-You visit me, in Le Paris! Le Paris, Evie! Le mo'focking Paris!
Everett scratched her temple with a sigh, as Maddie was cartoonishly crawling all over her in that octopus hold. Now, she actually loved when her little sister did stuff like that. She loved Maddie, it had been the two of them against the world for most of their teenage-hood, until Maddie had left for Paris two years before for school. The amount of boys and girls Everett had fought to keep her little sister out of trouble was worrisome, but Everett would take none of it back, even if she acted like a Samuel L. Jackson character around Madison.
Then , as abruptly as the love-assault had started, Maddie was rushing down the hallway of the dark flat, yelling, Everett wasn't sure if it was for her or her sister herself or someone else that might have been in there, she still went inside and closed the door, as Madison came back in a rush, now wearing pants and a beanie hat on her head.
-I'm so mofockin' hungry man take me out and feed me, but you got to act like le girlfriend or something, so le stupid boys all leave me alone after you leave.
-Bitch, saying "le" randomly in your sentences does not make you sound French. Or cool. You're a fucking moron. And I ain't holding your fucking hand like last time.
-No, no, that's le cool, man. Like, play it hard to get or something.
Everett raised her hands in a strangling motion before being pulled out by that almost-redhead tornado that was her sister, the advantage of not having the same set of parents, they looked nothing alike. Everett looked like Happy, a bit like Esther. Madison looked a lot like her dad, too, tough she had a lot of resemblance to Sailor.
But one good thing about Maddie's "two dads" is they are both avid motorcyclists, so she knows motorcycles. It's sort of a prerequisite to be a Lowman. So once they get to the parking, Maddie is in admiration in front of the bike, they have an actual, neutral ground discussion about the specs and mechanics and the bike, that she looks up and down, getting on her hands and knees to the ground, even if it makes her boobs almost hang out of her shirt. Of all Lowmans' Maddie is by far the best endowed in that department.
-That is one nice bike. What did Dappy say about it?
-Dappy ain't talking bikes anymore.
Madison looks up, pulls herself back up, Dappy had always been how she was calling Everett, King and Flo's dad, Dad-Happy, and they both called Maddie's biological dad Victor Screamo-dad, it had stemmed from a comment from Happy, almost a decade ago, that Victor's band was starting to sound less metal and more emo.
-Why isn't he? His elbows are getting bad, are they? What is mommy saying?
-Just hop on, bitch. I'll tell you when we're sitting down somewhere with foodstuffs.
They aren't going too far, in the very possible event that Maddie would do the drama queen thing and run off, so she would not have to run across half the town, Everett had done that once, upset her really bad, Maddie had taken off, and ninety minutes later the phone had rang, Madison had a huge asthma attack and she was in the hospital. No one knew she had asthma. Until then.
And around the table, Everett tells her sister everything, fills every blank left open to interpretation by Sailor on the phone, so Maddie gets the whole picture. For once, Madison shuts the hell up and listens without interrupting, sucking on the straw of her pink lemonade, big hazel eyes looking at her older sister intently.
-So, that's about all of it. Minus all the fucks I give or don't give, and how pissed off I am.
-Oh, that was the cold hard facts version? I couldn't tell the difference.
Everett rolled her eyes, flipped a double bird and lit herself a cigarette despite the placard on the wall nearby, she was never one to follow the rules.
-Fuck you.
-That's gross! We're related. Ew! Ew! Le Ew! Bitch, stop looking at me like that! Ew! Policier! Le girl is le nasty!
On the inside, Everett is laughing, on the outside, she's about ready to strangle her sister. Some guy walks by, wolf whistles Maddie and stops walking to try and get her number, Everett is already standing up, pulling her knife off its sheath.
-We gonna have a problem, boy? You leave my girl alone, or I'll murder you.
He flees, Madison is almost falling from her chair in laughter, until Everett titty-slaps her, she bellows a "owwwww!" so loud that the whole street stops walking/eating/whatever they were doing to look at them.
-Bitch that hurts!
And Madison returns the flavor, smacks Everett right across the chest as hard as she can, it's almost cute. And Madison is mumbling under her breath "stupid bitch, punching me in the tit, gonna tell mom", it makes Everett smile.
-You done?
-Yeah. Le fuck you.
-Le fuck you, too. So... When they leave. You're staying? With me?
-Where the hell else you want me to be? It's you and I against the world.
-More like me against the world and you're looking over my shoulder hurling insults and potatoes.
-Yes! That's how it is. And that's how it always will be. Because you'll never let me go to jail for B&E's or assault.
-I hate you. You're gonna be so ridiculous when you're thirty-five, married, three kids and still hurling potatoes over my shoulder.
-Oi! It knocked him right in the face.
-I spent a weekend in jail!
-But you didn't get charged!
Everett scratches her scalp, she will not delve into that conversation, there's just no way it will end well, especially since Maddie had food handy, and they had already started to punch each other where it hurts the most. She just watches her sister scarf that food down like she did not eat anything in months, when her waistline suggests otherwise, she's well fed, and just putting on a show. Hungry, broke college student. Yeah, right.
A Everett reaches to hug her sister, Maddie does that weird thing again, where she freezes and holds her breath like she could die from her older sister's hug, she doesn't hug back, and booms into "eww!" and "gross, stranger danger" once Everett gets back on her chair.
-So, who's been making your life a living hell, lately? I have a few punches I could sure spend on someone that pissed off a Lowman.
Everett barely has the time to toss money on the table to cover their bill that she's pulled by the arm by Madison, there's a bitch that's been messing with her boyfriend, and she needs to learn her lesson, and be put back in her place. No one fucks with Madison Steele's boyfriend. Allright, heads will roll, then.