Author's Note: I've been struggling to write anything lately, but trust me, it wasn't for want of trying. Hopefully, I'm finally (slowly) breaking the writer's block. It's probably a phrase I've used to loosely in the past, because this was dire - was starting to think my brain was broken! Big thanks to everyone reading and reviewing, and to the Freaks for all the support. As always, would love to know what you think. :)

Three

On another occasion, he'd probably have been enjoying the clubhouse festivities almost as much as anyone. He wasn't getting any younger and he had a beautiful wife to think about, so croweaters didn't hold the same attraction they once had. But drinks with his brothers, shooting the shit, maybe a lap dance if he was pushing it – hell yeah, he was still down with all that. On any other night.

And, for once, his motives weren't selfish either.

There had been plenty of occasions over the years when he'd skipped out early on club parties, smugly flipping his jeering brothers the bird and taking his woman home to bed. Not tonight. He saw the dawning in her eyes when he turned down a narrow, winding road and she looked over at him from the passenger seat of her cage. Reaching out, he let his free hand rest on her knee as he drove and felt hers settle on top with an easy familiarity.

She'd been his now for longer than she'd been anyone else's, even if he realised there was a piece of her heart that would never belong to him. When it came to anything else about her, he knew how possessive he could be. But that ... That he understood. And it was something he could never bring himself to resent. Not when she'd given him so much. Everything he'd never imagined he would have, in fact – love and a family, with a kid of his own and two more he'd die for just as quick.

She was everything he'd told himself he'd never wanted and yet the mere thought of his life without her now hit him harder than he cared to admit. That perspective never failed to give him fresh respect for her strength.

"Thank you," came the quiet whisper as he pulled over outside the gates of the cemetery, making him simply lean over to capture her mouth in a firm kiss.

The days and weeks after his death had been hellish for them all, forcing them to more or less watch helplessly as the club seemed to fracture in front of their eyes and their family took hit after hit. The shit with the cartel had put them in way over their heads and was threatening to drown them. Some faster than others.

They hadn't even had time to grieve properly, struggling as they were to re-group in a desperate bid to stay strong against the enemies piling up at their collective door. It wasn't an excuse, but it was a reason for their neglect of those relegated to the fringes. And with Tasha having taken to shutting herself off from the Samcro family, she had admittedly been allowed to drift from its heart.

Not anymore. He'd made sure of that.

"I'll be here when you're done, darlin'," Happy said, his hand cupping her cheek to keep her face tilted up to his. "Sooner if you need me. Go tell him your boy did good."

From the shine in her eyes, he could tell she was emotional, but she simply nodded calmly and slide out of the car. It was a far cry from the first time he'd found her by Kozik's grave – her body racked with sobs, as she mourned for everything that had been torn away from her. Her husband, the father of her children, her future.

He hadn't been sure anyone could bring her back from that dark place, least of all him, and he sure as hell hadn't meant for it to happen the way it had. It could have made things worse. A hell of a lot worse.

"I used to be you ..."

Even as the words resonated in Mercedes' ears, the woman seated comfortably on the bar stool in front of her nodded her head. "Sneer if you like, but it's true. I thought I had the run of this place, once upon a time."

Still eying her suspiciously, the younger woman rolled her eyes and made a show of nonchalantly examining her nails. If there was one thing she hated, it was someone assuming she was stupid. "So you're just another croweater past her sell-by date. You know how many bitches like you I've seen come and go? Look, I didn't just drift in here off the street, okay? So I really don't need your words of wisdom. The guys came to me."

"Came to you, huh?"

Narrowing her eyes at the wry smile, Mercedes straightened her shoulders and flicked her hair back from her face as she drew herself up to her full height. "That's right. Came to me. I was working a bike show in Lodi – couple of the guys recognised me. I'm a model – been in a lot of car and bike magazines."

"Good for you," came the response, still with that same bemused look. "Oh, sorry. Were you expecting me to be impressed that you got your tits out on the hood of some muscle car? Don't make you special, darlin'. To be honest, you girls are looking pretty tame these days. You got what? Couple of centrefolds between you? Shoulda been here when CaraCara was open for business. Place was wall-to-wall porn stars."

"Look, I don't get what the hell kind of point you're trying to make, but ..."

"Then listen up," the woman snapped, leaning forward to jab a finger at the startled group of girls. "Prancing around here like you own the place, disrespecting people who are real family to this club, thinking that one day your little dream of being an old lady will just fall into your lap. If it ain't happened yet, it ain't ever happening. If you can handle that, fine. Know your role, keep your nose out of business that ain't yours and keep your mouth shut. But you go thinking you can push your way to something more ... Only think it's gonna get you is gone."

Spotting an in, Mercedes planted her hands on her hips and smirked in triumph. "And if you're so keen on private business, why exactly are you sticking your nose into mine?" The petulant so there hung unsaid between them.

The woman turned her attention back to her drink. "Look around, little girl. These guys fuck cheap pussy – they don't marry it and they sure as shit don't love it. Maybe I'm just sick of picking up the pieces."

Kneeling in front of the small simple headstone in the growing dusk, Tasha absently picked a few stray leaves from the neat grave and then managed a smile as she reached out to trace her fingers over the familiar letters. She hadn't been a Kozik for quite some time, but she still felt almost as strong a connection as ever to the man whose scant ashes were scattered in the quiet shade of the trees.

"Hi," she whispered softly. There was always that initial moment where she never knew quite what to say or how to be. It did seem to help though and, once that first sting as if of fresh loss was gone, there was always plenty to tell him. All the milestones in their kids' lives for a start, how his brothers were doing, what was new with her.

"Our baby boy's all grown up now, Koz," she started, her hand still resting on the stone as if it brought her closer to him. "A full patch. You'd be so proud. And he's wearing your cut. If I hadn't promised him I wouldn't cry, I'd have been in floods of tears. I can't help being scared though. Watch over him, honey. Keep him safe for me."

Letting her eyes drift closed as if in silent prayer, Tasha could picture those piercing blue eyes and that self-assured grin. She could practically feel his lips on hers, knowing that would have been exactly how he'd have reassured her – with a kiss and a smile and a vow that he'd always be there to have Leo's back.

Except he wasn't.

She blinked back fresh tears and brought her fingers to her lips, then pressing a kiss to the headstone with them.

"I gotta go," she said quietly, her voice just a little huskier than usual. "Happy's waiting. I ... I still wonder how you feel about that, even now. I never would have made it this far without him though. And loving him has never changed what we had. I love you, Koz. I miss you. Sleep tight, honey."

She stood and dusted off the knees of her jeans before heading back to the car, spotting Happy leaning against the side of it to have a smoke. When she reached him, he was stubbing the butt out with the toe of his boot and exhaling a last stream of smoke into the night air.

"You okay?"

Tasha simply nodded, letting her hand settle over the steady thump of his heart as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Let's go home."

"You got it, doll."

By the time they'd reached home, all the day's planning and excitement and emotion was catching up with Tasha and she was right on that verge of letting the motion of the car send her drifting off.

"I ain't carryin' your ass, woman," came Happy's gruff voice, but there was only warmth in the hand that squeezed her knee to rouse her.

With a stifled yawn and a longing to finally kick off her heels, she climbed out of the passenger's seat and was reaching to retrieve her purse when something caught the corner of her eye. A hunched up figure sat on their porch in the near dark. It threw her for a second, but realisation started to seep in the next and then she was really moving. Despite the impractical footwear and with her purse forgotten, she hurried up the driveway with a sinking feeling in her gut. At least she was there and whole. Whatever it was, at least she was safe ...

"Mommy ..."

The younger woman, with her long blonde hair dishevelled and a livid bruise across her cheekbone, stumbled over the bag at her feet as she all but fell sobbing into Tasha's arms.

"Lily, darling, what's happened?" her mother demanded anxiously as she cast a look over her shoulder to where her husband had stopped, grim-faced and evidently putting the pieces together much quicker than she was. "Talk to me, sweetie."

But her daughter – her beautiful, kind, thoughtful not-so-little-anymore girl – was crying much too hard to supply any answers. Not that her step-father seemed to need them.

"I'll fucking kill him," Happy swore. "Slowly."

to be continued ...