So, this is the last chapter… I will do a sequel, but want to do another story first. You know, get another story done.
I walked into the Clubhouse, and saw Sam trying to strangle Tig, her face covered in whipped cream and her back in shaving cream. Chibs was trying to cover Sam in shaving cream with the back of his head covered in shaving cream. Tig was attempting to cover Chibs in whipped cream, with his stomach covered in shaving cream. The room smelled strangely like Tig had farted, and Mom was nowhere to be seen.
"What the hell is going on here?" Clay said, walking in. Tig, Sam, and Chibs looked over, shocked looks on their faces.
"Um… Nothing?" Sam said, with an innocent smile. Clay looked at the three of them, and walked out of the room muttering something along the lines of immature children.
"It could have been a lot worse." Tig said. I looked at him amusedly, and went to the kitchen to get paper towels and air freshener. What the hell had Tig eaten?
"Yeah, your right. Now, clean up. And what the hell did you eat?" I asked. Sam smirked, grabbing the paper towels.
"I thought that wasn't the question?!" Tig said, acting confused. Sam started laughing with Chibs and Tig, and wiped her face clean of the whipped cream. Her sweatshirt was the one that had gotten dirty, so she took it off and threw it to Tig, which hit his face. He glared at her, but then noticed she was wearing a pink Scooby Doo t-shirt and starting laughing at her. She tried to get up and strangle him, but Chibs held her down and sprayed the room with air freshener before he didn't have the chance. I pushed Tig into the laundry room and made him clean her sweatshirt. He grumbled about having to do Sam's laundry, and I walking out of the room.
"Sorry about that… We had no intention of messing up the room. Now stay still! I need to check and make sure your wound isn't any worse." Chibs said, unraveling Sam's bandages. Sam had apparently been wiggling around because Chibs poking around with some surgical tools had hurt a little bit. He had sewn it shut last night after he had taken out the bullet, and with some magic, predicted that it would be healed soon.
CHARACTER CHANGE
Dad slowly unraveled my bandages, and checked if the stitches were still intact. He had to fix up one of them, but other than that it was fine.
"Alright Da, are ye done fixing me wound?" I said, adopting my Da's accent all of a sudden. He looked at me shocked, along with Jax, who was walking into the room.
"What did ye say?" Da said, trying to understand. Suddenly, I understood. I was adopting his accent gradually, and today was when I almost fully adopted it.
"I asked if ye were done fixing me wound…" I said, with the same accent. He smiled and looked as if he could run a marathon.
"Is me Da okay?" I asked Jax. He shrugged, and I heard Tig walk in the room.
"What is all the commotion about?" He asked. I smirked, and my Dad got up after putting a new bandage on and hugged me.
"There is no commotion, ye bastard." I said to Tig. He looked shocked, and offended. "Just some Scottish thing I picked up from me Da." I told him.
"Where'd the accent come from though?" Tig asked carefully, still trying to figure out why I called him a bastard. I shrugged, and jumped up from the couch, wobbling on one leg. Da helped me over to the bar counter, and I sat down, sipping a coffee handed to me.
"So what was yer Mom like? Did she know that ye were getting raped?" Da asked me all of a sudden. I looked at him wearily, and shook my head.
"She had no damn idea was happening to me. Thought I was a rebellious teenager, fighting against me step dad!" I said. He looked shocked, and I suddenly craved something I hadn't had in a long time. "Do ye have any tea? Like real tea? I've only had it in some Irish restaurant." I asked. Da nodded, and whipped it up for me, smiling.
"You are a lot like Chibs. Some mornings he'll come in here and all he'll drink is god damn tea. Its fricking amazing." Tig said, analyzing me. I rolled my eyes.
"I love ye Da." I said, hugging him a he came to sit down next to me. It was a good day.