It made me sort of sad to write this. Kurt Sutter owns his own stuff. Leave a review?
"To a job well done!"
Everett smiled at Jack, clanked her bottle of beer with the rest of them and had a long sip of the lukewarm beverage, she hadn't cared to put her beer in the fridge when they got back from Spain. She wasn't staying long enough anyways. But hey, the beef between Barcelona and their rivals had been squashed, no one had lost their lives, thanks to Everett and Joker's mediation skills, Charming's mother charter had called to say they were happy, Lawrence was happy, Jack was happy. Everyone was happy. Disaster, averted.
She had just gotten up to leave when Lepage called from the couch where he was slumming with two crow eaters, a smug look on his face.
-Hey, Stars? When are you gonna jump on my dick?
The whole room immediately went silent, half of them were looking at the new prospect like they could murder him, the other half were looking at her expectantly, waiting to see what her retort would be. She couldn't keep them waiting or they would think that this kid got to her.
-Hey prospect? When you you gonna jump on mine?
She mimicked stroking at her crotch then popped her hand open graphically, a mock look of climax on her face, before flipping him the bird, she wasn't going to let him disrespect her. There was light hazing, and there was shit you better just not say; that was some shit he should have kept his mouth shut for. At least her retort made the guys laugh, nothing she couldn't handle.
Lawrence caught her by the door, partly to commend her on the work she had done enforcing in Barcelona, partly to ask her how come she was leaving so early, he had found her someone to fight for fight night, plus he wanted to peg her against the prospect that Jack was sponsoring. Law knew Stars could probably take him without problem. Everett was Happy Lowman's daughter after all.
-I can't. I have a cockroach problem I got to go take care of.
-Isn't that your father's problem?
-Yeah, no. He came into that vagina, but he didn't come out of it. My problem.
-Oh. Bobby. Bob.
The man looked up from his hand of poker, put it down and got up from his chair as Law gestured for him to come over, he pushed his glasses on top of his head as he stopped by them, pulling up on his jeans.
-Yeah?
-Go with Lowman. She could use someone to keep her cool-headed. No cops.
Bob's eyes goes from Law to Everett a few times, as if this simple motion could help him understand why, he pulls his glasses down with a nod, before Everett can really refuse the offer or the help. It was her problem and she would take care of it. Bobby follows her outside, gets on his own bike and leads the way out of the courtyard of the clubhouse, because he's higher ranked than she is. He knows where she lives.
But instead of heading there, he heads to that bar she used to serve cocktails at, there's a long line, but she's worked there long enough that she can skip the line, the bouncer easily remembers her. Bobby gets them a table upstairs on the mezzanine overlooking the dance floor, asks the waitress for two beers before turning to Everett.
-I saw that look on your face when Law asked me to tag along. What's the problem exactly?
-I'm not sure. My birth mother showed up, as we were leaving for Spain. Didn't talk to her at all. Basically told her to stay out of sight and not even look my cat's way. I'm killing her tonight, Bob.
He raised an eyebrow at her resolve, she had said it and she meant it. There would be no more Esther showing up unannounced, or calling crying for help.
-Did she tell you why she came?
-No. And I don't care to know. When I went to Seattle last year, I told her if I saw her again, I was killing her. I can't go soft now?
The waitress comes back over, puts the two beers on the low table, in that awkward position the creep boss liked and told the girls to use, ass pointing one way, knees awkwardly bent and her tits pointing straight at Bob Seger's face, he had an eyeful before paying her, she smiled and left, Everett looked at her, licking her lips before having a long swig of her beer.
-So what's the plan?
-For dad not to see her, or know that she's there at all. If he'd seen her, he would have called me already. Or mom. Mom would have called me to tall me that dad went crazy because Esther is in my apartment.
-You look sad, when you're telling me this.
Did she? It wasn't even sadness, it was lassitude over a situation that had been going on for almost twenty-seven years, ever since Esther had slipped out the back-door after dropping a pregnancy-bomb on her dad as the cops were barging in through the front door. Then Esther had tried to keep Everett from Happy for nearly a decade. Until he'd left her for dead in Rogue River.
She has a look at the dance floor, with the thought that the people down there dancing like robots on the stupid dance music puked by the speakers were sad and pathetic. That wasn't even a nice life, that nine to five just to afford one night on the town a week. And to say she was trying to assimilate to these people, at one time of her life. How stupid could she have been to...
-Everett!
She managed not to startle as she turned to Bob who was looking at her still, hands around his beer like he was trying to strangle it.
-If you need me to not go up there with you... I can stay in the parking lot, and Law will never know.
-I don't know. I don't have a plan, Bob. You and Joker are the only ones knowing for sure that she's there. And Law, but he's not gonna rat me out to dad. And even if he does, she'll be long gone cold by then.
-So you're serious about this.
Everett just nods. Did she not look and sound serious about this? She takes one last gulp of her beer as she stands up from the comfortable lounger, last washed circa 1990, puts the half-full bottle down on the table and considers it for a second, before puking a piece of truth to Bobby.
-I've been fucking Rain Queen for about a year. He's at my place at least two times a week, and he knows nothing of my mother. He's probably gonna show up after fight night, and I'll be damned if he sees the pathetic meat sack that birthed me.
She looks down at him, he's staring a hole through her legs, hands crossed on his knees, pauses for a moment before looking up at her.
-So we're on a deadline, then.
Oh, can she ever appreciate how simple Bob can be, most of the time. And a real bonus to Robert Manseau is that the guy was a real tomb. Her secrets, her dirty, shameful little secrets were safe with him. He let her lead the way to her place, parked near her and followed her inside, Sailor was in the lobby mopping, she interrogated as to Bobby's presence on a Friday night, she dropped a hint about Rain and their relationship, almost like a question.
-No, mom. Bobby's just picking up some shit to bring to storage.
-I could have done that for you while you were gone.
-Club storage, ma.
The elevator closed before Sailor could add anything, they were silent on the ride up to Everett's floor. She was left with her thought about her confession to Bob. She truly was ashamed of Esther, and genuinely thought Rain could think less of her if she saw that weak piece of shit that had raised Everett until Happy and Sailor got her custody. Daughter of an unrepentant murderer and a pirate was much better credentials in her book than daughter of an unrepentant murderer and a weak ass drug addict her father had failed to kill correctly. She trusted Joker and Bobby, they would never judge her, but anyone else in the club knowing about Esther being alive, in Everett's book, would mean her father failed, in some manner, or that he wasn't perfect. It would be shattering the perfect image Everett had of her father.
-Bobby?
-Yeah?
-Thanks for your help.
He had a nod as the elevator doors opened, Everett leads the way to the front door of her apartment that she unlocked, she heard Mittens cry for food, love, or whatever he was crying for, sometimes he cried just for crying.
As she saw Esther looking outside of the apartment at the city, all calm and quiet, Everett pondered having mercy on her. She was just a sad, pathetic, little old thing. Wheelchair bound at that.
No.
Did Esther ever have mercy on her? Giving her a dad in Jack Gallegos, but forbidding her to get attached to him, or him to her. He'd been her mother's husband for at least seven years, the only dad she had known in her formative years, but for some sick, twisted Esther-reason, Young Everett wasn't allowed to bond with him like a daughter. Unless they were in public. She could hold his hand and call him dad then. If she tried that shit at home, she'd get yelled at.
Or when Everett did her own detective work to find out that her father was alive and well, and was Happy Lowman. Her dad had gotten her the best lawyer in the world, and Esther had kidnapped her and brought her halfway across the States, shacked up with a strange dude that had almost gotten his way with her nine-years old daughter.
Or when Everett was a semi-adjusted twelve years old that finally had a good family life with a mom, dad and siblings, and Esther had sent someone to kidnap her. Plan foiled by a bus driver, but plan nonetheless.
There was the periodical cry for help due to substance abuse or a rough-housing boyfriend. Or just straight up demands for money. Esther Kearns had never had a single bit of mercy for her biological daughter. Why should Everett have any mercy?
Everett headed to the kitchen, she opened a few drawers, considering the options she had handy, Bobby had stayed by the door, he was looking at Esther, his expression said it all. That was the person that had the Lowmans' panties all up in a knot?
-Why would you be stupid enough to come here, Esther?
-Hui-Har-Inn Eu-Loee. Ah-ink-oo Nih meh.
"I read Martin's necrology. I think you need me", both things stop Everett in her track. Her birth mother's labored speech, partially due to a crushed throat, two handful of shattered teeth and partial paralysis of the jaw, and the assumption that Everett ever needed her, or ever would for that matter. The drawer she had opened loudly was closed very quietly, Everett couldn't even help it, she stood her full height, disdain, anger and scornfulness reading all over her face.
-That I'd need you? What made you think. That. I would ever. Need. You?
Fear crossed Esther's eyes as Everett slowly stalked her way, in that same manner Happy did, she didn't even know she was doing it, or looking like an animal about to pounce her prey, it was the same fear Everett used to read in Esther's eyes each time she would ask for Happy, for her real dad, while they were on the run from him. Baby Lowman had taken after her daddy in a lot of aspects.
Now her idea had been originally, to find something nice and maybe slightly unusual to strangle Esther with. Perhaps, the string of an apron, or a string cheese-cutter, maybe even the bag from a loaf of bread, given they were solid enough. Paraphrase beforehand, maybe a good old Sailor-like rant dedicated to all of Esther's faults and lacks as a mother.
But that gleam of fear made her want blood, the old fashioned way. The Lowman way.
Everett pounced, hands ahead ready to clasp, they tumbled over the wheelchair and fell hardly onto the floor, the chair clanged and clanked as it fell sideways, and Everett ended up kneeling on top of her birth mother, slowly suffocating the life out of her, determination read all over her face. This gaping hole would never bother them, ever again. She would make sure of it. And her grip was such that she could feel the brittle bones cracking and breaking under her grip, Esther's eyes were widened with fear, she was trying to cough and grip at Everett's hands, but she had no leeway. And she was starting to choke on her own blood. She managed a cough, blood flew out of her mouth and onto Everett's face, but she was busy having a maniacal expression, Bobby had seen that expression plenty of times before, working alongside Happy.
It only lasted two minutes and a half, top, but it felt like an hour, that eye contact between Everett and Esther as the latter was dying. Understood that she was dying at the hands of her daughter. That it was for real this time, and she wouldn't have some shit-luck to be found and rescued. Esther's blue eyes went empty, finally, she stopped gurgling on her own blood. Bobby's hand on Everett's shoulder made her snap back to reality, she possibly could have spent a few more hours in this position, lost in thought of how she used to idolize this piece of trash.
-You're done, Everett. She's gone, now.
She wiped her cheek, smearing the blood before standing up, she looked around herself before looking back at Bobby.
-Can.
She choked on her own saliva, her voice felt like she had screamed for the past two hours or so. And in all honesty, she had mixed feelings. She was incredibly glad to have finally done it, having closed the loop, so to speak, or finished what her father had started. But she felt sadness as well. Even if she didn't understand why. She had to cough a few times to find her own voice again.
-Can you get rid of the wheelchair?
-What about her?
-I'll take care of it.
Not even her. It. It was a non-entity, now. Bob had a nod, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and had a fatherly gesture as he wiped her cheek, shoved the piece of fabric back in his pocket before taking the wheelchair, he lifted it over Esther's body to bring it outside, closing the door behind himself. Everett glanced at the clock, it was already eleven, she had no time to waste. At least, Esther was short in stature and pretty skinny from her drug use.
She still sat down for a moment, before getting to work, to figure out how she could dispose of it. She had to have a plan before she started hacking at a corpse.
Brilliant idea. The boat tour. If she captained the bad guy's boat, they would be at sea until very near to dark, she could dump the remains at sea, and it would never be traced back at her. Even if it would be suspect to Sailor that her daughter volunteered so eagerly.