Chapter Two:
Present Day
Charming's outsides hadn't changed in the year and a half I'd been locked away with my sins. It looked like it was as much my home as it had been before. But that was just to the untrained eye. The moment we rode past the Welcome sign, I felt the target on my back. I imagined the laser red dot of sniper fire marking the tattooed eye of the reaper adorning my back. Jax's muscles had clenched, he'd sat on his bike straight, completely tensed in posture almost like he was expecting trouble. I fed from his energy, taking it in and tangling the wisps of fear with my own darkness. I felt naked and exposed without my usual arsenal strapped and tightened to my body. I missed my KABAR, a gift from Avery in Dallas, and my 357. I'd never get the latter weapon back, it was the evidence that put me away for my father's murder. If someone wanted to start trouble, I'd be damn near defenseless. Opie had taught me hand to hand combat, and Happy had given me some lessons in varying martial arts, but it wasn't going to stop a bullet worth a damn.
I let out a breath full of tension when we were locked behind the gates of Teller Morrow. This, at least, hadn't changed. My daughter and stepson were with Gemma, in the office of the garage, waiting for the SAMCRO contingent to greet me. I didn't even have time to dismount the bike before long hair and limbs tackled me to the ground. Jenny was crying and hugging me closer than she'd ever done. We were literally on the ground, my back pressing into the hot asphalt. I held her, moving my hand over her back rhythmically while I reassured my sister.
"I'm back, it's okay, I'm here with you." I repeated over and over as she let the tears stain the ground. Each drop sizzled and evaporated as it hit the tar. I laughed, a little, when she pushed her weight from me and wiped at her wet cheeks.
"I told myself I wasn't going to cry like a little bitch." She giggled through the tears. She wasn't ashamed of her emotions, but proud.
"You patched in?!" I asked, breathless, looking at the new rockers that adorned her cut. Stitched on carefully, I could see that she loved her leather as much as I did mine.
"Damn right I did! You're not the only badass biker Andrews sister anymore. One patch surprised me more than the others. "Men of Mayhem" was stitched above her left side pocket. Given only to members of the club who'd shed blood in extreme circumstances, the pit in my stomach only grew when I realized my prayers hadn't been answered. I'd wanted my Club low key and protected while I was incarcerated, but Jenny's patches told another story. I forced a smile on my face.
"Well it looks like we've got even more to celebrate!" I cried, breaking the bubble of uncertainty that had fallen over my brothers. Gemma and the kids ran out, and I gave them hugs and kisses. I listened to Katie tell me all about her new favorite doll and Abel told me, with pride, that he can ride his ATV down the street without supervision now. I laughed with them as they fought for my attention, and hugged them closer. Then, it was time for the SAMCRO festivities. We partied well into the night, the music blaring and the liquor flowing. Jax kept me close, like he was afraid I'd float away or disappear if he didn't keep me in arm's reach. Chibs handed me my cut with a warm smile, his cheeks ruddy from the whiskey he was drinking.
"It's good to have you back, Miss America." His voice was as warm as I'd remembered, full of character and mirth. It almost disguised the deep seated loneliness that I knew lived just beneath his surface. I shrugged on my cut in response to his well wishes, causing the crowd to roar with joy. I smiled, genuinely, as I patted down the pockets. Juice, coming from nowhere, handed me my KABAR and a 9mm.
"Really? Y'all ain't got anything with a bit more kick?" I laughed, accepting the gun from Juice.
"I got this back for you, Cass." Jenny spoke up, pushing off the wall closest to the door. I gave her a quizzical look.
"She was so damn stubborn, we had to let her try. She drove all the way to Dallas to get it." Jax offered, kissing my cheek. Jenny looked smug when she handed me a 357 magnum. The grip had an engraved "C" on one side and the letters "SAMDAL" on the other. It was Caine's gun. The one I'd leveled at his head before running from him.
"I left it with Avery…" I breathed, staring at my sister. I looked up at Jax, still confused.
"I know. He gave it to Jenny when she visited the SAMDAL chapter a few months ago. She and Adam, that kid from Denver, took the trip together after I'd gotten out. Your sister is tenacious, and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."
"Avery was happy to give it to you, Cassia. He basically danced a jig when I knocked on the door and explained who I was." Jenny explained more, giving me another hug. "He told me a ton of old stories about you. I didn't know that you used this gun for your first kill." Jenny was still talking, still smiling, like she'd given me a gift. The 357 was heavy, though no heavier than my old one had been. And while I would shoot better with my preferred caliber, this particular gun was from a past I'd rather have forgotten. Instead of berating the point, I slipped it in my holster opposite the 9mm and squeezed Jenny back.
"Honestly, a gal couldn't dream up a better guy or a better little sister." I replied, letting some emotion seep into my voice.
"I told you she'd love it!" Jenny declared smugly, tossing her curtain of beautiful hair over her shoulder as she gave Tig a self satisfied look.
"Alright, alright! Don't let it go to your head, hot stuff." Tig grumbled, stuffing a 50 dollar bill in Jenny's cleavage.
"Watch it, Tigger." Adam, from Denver, sneered as he snagged Jenny around the waist. My sister giggled and kissed Adam. I noticed then that suddenly, without my notice, I'd readjusted to the Clubhouse. I sat on a stool and stretched my aching muscles. The most quiet sensation wrapped itself around my shoulders; I was home, I could protect us, everything was right with the world.
If only I could convince the pesky ball of thunder rolling in my stomach that danger wasn't imminent.
4.5 Years Ago
Cassia's First Full Year as SAMCRO
Nothing prepares you for an explosion. It's damn near in the definition: "a sudden outburst." I couldn't brace myself for Clay's inevitable negative response to being ousted. I'd kept a stern, stable mask of anger on my face as he screamed and rallied and threatened. Jax has calmly, matter of factly, laid out the evidence against him.
"Here's the video footage from our run-in with Gregory Diamond, which clearly shows that Clay was planning to kill me and Cassia in Denver. Cassia's already told all of you about how Clay tried to sexually assault her in our very own Clubhouse. We can't forget what he did to Wendy. Clay has been manipulating this Club, betraying its members, and disgracing the patch." Jax was standing by the end of his speech, even racking on charges I knew nothing about. He had commanded attention even when Clay had interrupted him and called him names.
"Clay. There's nothing you can do now." Bobby added to the end of Jax's tirade, speaking gently.
"This is all her fault!" Clay screamed, spittle flying from his mouth with every syllable. I didn't need to look at him to know he was pointing at me. It wasn't as if there was another "her" he could be referring to.
"Leave her out of this." Jax growled, fisting his hands and advancing on his stepfather. Chibs caught my eye and gave me a nod. I needed to assert myself or be overrun by Jax's need to protect me.
"Nah, leave me in it where I belong. You should pay for your betrayals, Clay. And you ain't got nobody to blame for them other than yourself." I replied. Clay passed Jax to grab me by the lapels of my cut. Before Jax could punch the older man, I put my hand up. "Let him get his anger out, Jax. He's clearly grasping at straws." I taunted Clay as he hauled me from my seat and then put his KABAR to my neck. I chuckled, rolling my eyes. The whole club stood now, Opie and Chibs visibly restraining Jax and the others looking at the scene slack jawed.
"If I'd wanted your rancid snatch, Cassia, I'd have taken it that day in the Clubhouse. I'd have pinned you down and fucked you until you screamed my name." Clay grumbled for the whole club to hear. Under the guise of struggling to get free, I was able to get my trusty 357 in my non-dominant hand. Clay pressed the knife to my skin, breaking it slightly until beads of red blood dropped onto my chest. I shot once, the bullet going through his foot. He let out a deafening roar and dropped me. I shot him in the knee next, bringing him to the floor.
"Here's what's going to happen now." I said calmly, fisting his hair in my non gun hand so I could make him look at me. The cold blue eyes that stared back at me were those of a broken man. Clay had lost his way, his mind, and now his club. He looked a heartbeat away from ending it all himself. He didn't deserve the numbness that came with death. He deserved to live with his mistakes as they gnawed on his breathing corpse. "You're going to leave your cut and get yourself to a hospital. You'll tell no one about what happened here, because you're not a dumbass. Then you'll head to the nearest tattoo parlor and you'll black our every reaper and anarchy symbol you have. I don't care what it costs, if it hurts, or if you think it's justified. You're not SAMCRO. You're nothing. If you deviate from these instructions, Clay, you'll have to face me. We both know me and my rancid snatch would win that fight. Once your ink is gone, you leave town. I don't want to see you, hear from you, or hear about you ever the fuck again. Are we clear?" I enunciated each syllable clearly and sternly. The air between us was charged with tension and adrenaline, the smell of our blood getting stronger the longer he bled on the wooden floors. I let go of his hair, pushing him back. Half Sack caught him, righting the disgraced president before he hit the ground. Jax kissed me on the forehead on his way to Clay.
"You heard her. Stay the fuck away." He reiterated. I didn't turn around when I heard the metal of Jax's ring bite into Clay's cheek. The force of the punch took Clay down, and Half Sack helped Juice drag him out to the curb, where the trash belonged.
We took a break between ousting Clay and dealing with leadership changes. Most of the club was outside smoking. But Jax and I were sitting on the bar and drinking whiskey while we waited. He held me close to him, rubbing my back.
"Who's Wendy?" I asked Jax after a long period of silence.
"Nothing to worry about, darlin." He replied easily, kissing my lips with the same languid pace I was used to. His kisses made my toes numb and goosebumps spread across my skin. Whenever we were together, I got the butterflies I'd heard about in movies. I was ready to mount him and ride him like my Harley when the others came inside.
"Clay's at the hospital. Hale saw him outside and gave him a ride." Opie reported, smirking at his best friend.
"We can always leave you two alone if you're not finished canoodling," Chibs added, making kissy sounds. I stood from Jax's lap and slapped the Scot on the way to the Chapel.
"No one says 'canoodle' anymore, Old Man. Let's finish this shit so we can celebrate new regimes and the banishment of traitors!" I replied, throwing them a smirk of my own. Chibs threw his arm around my shoulders and tried to make me give him a piggyback ride to his seat. We were laughing, the air felt lighter, and I could damn near taste success.
7 Years Ago-Dallas
"You know how to pull the trigger?" Caine asked for the eighth time, his tone condescending. I resisted the urge to pistol whip him, and instead nodded solemnly. Our meeting in the Chapel had been over a month ago, and I was still being tested. Avery was on board with using me as the Club's covert assassin the moment I'd suggested it. Caine, however, was more likely to chew off his own cock before allowing me any responsibility.
"You're just so pretty, Cassia. Why would you want to be in danger?" Caine asked that night, taking another swing of his Corona.
"I just want to help y'all," I replied, laying my accent on thick. I batted my eyelashes a bit, and smiled at him. "I want to be part of something, baby."
"Then let's get my crow tattooed on your ass and call it a day! You'd be a great Old Lady. You can rally the club whores and the croweaters, slang whiskey, and call the fights. You'd have a blast and you'd never bruise your pretty skin." Caine offered as a counterpoint. I looked at Avery, ready to damn near beg him to make sure that never happened.
"Ryan, come on. There's some real value in what Cassia is suggesting. I say we give it a shot. If she can keep herself safe, then having a tool like her in our kit would be damn useful."
That's how Avery, Caine, and I found ourselves in the middle of the desert at 7:30am this morning. I had a blind fold over one eye, one arm trapped behind my back, and my target was 100 feet away. The odds were impossible, but the odds had never met me.
"Are you sure you can pull the trigger, there's nothing wrong with saying you can't…" Caine started, but I fired off a shot and knocked the soda can off the fence post. Avery stood directly behind the can, in Kevlar. While the force of the shot was less than it would have been if it hadn't penetrated aluminum first, it was still enough for Avery to stumble back a couple steps.
"Caine. Babe. I can pull the fucking trigger." I told him, bolstering my weapon and kissing his forehead. Caine frowned but didn't reply until Avery joined us.
"You're fucking impressive, Cassia. We have a job for you tonight." The President announced, pulling a file folder from his cut. I pushed the eye patch up into my hair and used Avery's KABAR to cut my arm free from my belt loop. Taking the folder, I flipped through the information and quickly memorized it.
"And Darius Gage is a low level member of the Southside Havoc?" I asked, reading the information below his mug shot.
"Yeah. He'll be at Club YoYo tonight with the group. You have to get to him and kill him. We got some intel that Havoc wants to take over some of the drug trade and we've already promised the Mayans that we'd eliminate all other players. They have a deal with the Cartel that they need to keep peaceful." Caine answered.
"The problem is, Cross's brother is a Havoc, so we have a peaceful agreement with them too. So, that's where you come in." Avery continued. The two were as different as night and day. Caine, the wild child with a destructive streak balanced Avery's stoic dedication to responsibility. If the SEALs hadn't united them, I wasn't sure they'd have ever been friends. Avery had told me their story a hundred times, and it still seemed like a movie. They were
I smiled, finally feeling important for the first time in my life. I'd trade all the crowns, the sashes, and the titles to relive this moment whenever I wanted.
"You need a hot chick, not seemingly associated with either gang, to send a message." I confirmed. The leaders shared a look before nodding in unison. I smiled, again, the grin transforming my face. Caine couldn't help but kiss me. Avery ran his hand over his bald, tattooed head.
"Here's what you're going to do, baby…" Caine started, filling me in on the details.
Hours later, I was freshly polished. Caine and Avery had taken money out of the club coffers to get me physically ready for this job. My hair had been blown out by the best stylist in Dallas, who was over the moon excited to style a former Miss Texas. I'd been waxed, plucked, and shaved to perfection. My nails shone under the dim bar lights. My makeup was flawless and pretty. Even my clothing was new. Including the lacy lingerie set that Caine had gleefully handed me a couple hours ago. My skinny jeans were damn near painted on, but on top I wore an emerald green camisole with lace trimming. It was fun to be so dressed up, especially knowing I had a KABAR on my back and a 357 in my boot. I stride up to the bar, eyes on me, until I reached my perch. I chose the seat next to my mark, the poor and unsuspecting Darius Gage. When the bartender acknowledged me, I started my show.
"Double shot of Bulleit Bourbon, neat, and a glass of ginger ale." I instructed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. In my periphery, I saw that Darius had turned and looked at me. I stared ahead steadily, needing him to make the next move.
"How can a pretty girl like you afford a double shot of Bulleit?" He asked in a slow drawl. His smooth skin shone under the dim bar lights like nothing I'd ever seen. He was only a shade or two darker than me, with a pair of piercing brown eyes. I still refused to look at him.
"Oh, I can't afford it." I replied, accepting the glass and taking a sip. I turned to him, now. "Which is why you're going to buy it for me, handsome." I continued, sticking out my tongue to lick away the excess bourbon that had fallen from the rim. His eyes danced.
"And why would I do that?"
"Because I'm the best looking thing in this joint, and you're in for an amazing night." I smirked at Darius and threw the rest of the shot back, enjoying the burn as it coated my throat.
Later that night, with one strap ripped from my tank, and my hair thrown in a messy bun, I sliced through Darius's bones.
"This would've been easier if you hadn't put up a fight." I told the long dead man, poking through the sea of blood carefully. I'd already donned my gloves. My instructions were to leave a message, the sort of message was up to me. I'd cut out his tongue while he was still alive, clawing at my blouse. I'm not sure from whence the inspiration struck, but it seemed fitting that his limbs be removed from his body. I wanted him cradling his legs in his own arms when Havoc found him. He lived in the attic above the bar, and when I'd seen the state of his studio I knew I couldn't let a single breath pass between us. The carpet was crusted in cum stains, molding pizza crusts littered the surfaces, and I could see blood splattered on the walls.
"Sorry about the room," Darius had said when he led me in by the hand.
"I assume you don't spend a lot of time here." I replied, smiling.
"I usually crash elsewhere. But the sheets are clean." He confirmed. I looked at the sheets and noted that they were not, in fact, clean.
"So I'm the lucky lady that gets to see your bachelor pad." I giggled, twirling a bit. He grabbed me by the waist, pressing in on my lower back right where the KABAR rested.
"What the fuck?" He asked, pulling away. When he reached for his gun, I knew I had to act. I launched myself at him, knife ready, and lodged it in his throat. At first he tried to staunch the bleeding with his hands, his mouth gaping open like a fish. That's when I removed his tongue. Two hours later, and I was regretting my sudden sense of inspiration to cut off his legs. As it turned out, bone couldn't be easily sawed through. But I'd committed to this, and it was important that Avery and Caine knew I was tough enough to deal with this part of this life. So I continued to saw, ignoring the sweat forming on my brow.
Leaving Darius's apartment unseen was easy, through the fire escape. I was lucky he'd started blasting music when I'd entered the place. No one should check on him for a while. I walked to my car, which I'd parked a few streets over, and hurried to the boxing ring. Jimmy Jam was bouncing again, holding the line of hang around hostage as he flipped through his phone.
"Cassia." He greeted her, stepping away from the door so I could slip through.
"Hey Jimmy, I've gotta see Caine and Avery. Is Caine fighting tonight?" I kept my voice steady, like I had when my teachers asked about the bruises.
"Nah, he's not in the ring tonight. They should be at the bar. Can you get a prospect to bring me a couple shots of tequila?" He answered, running his palm over the mop of hair that often fell in his eyes.
"You got it." I replied, opening the door and heading inside. I stayed in the shadows when I entered the room, I didn't know if the lights could pick up on the blood that stained my shirt and didn't want to find out. I only stepped forward when a Prospect crossed my path. Jimmy Jam deserved his tequila.
"3 shots of Patron for Jimmy at the door. Grab it, now, and don't pass 'go' when bringing it to him." I ordered, taking the poor guy by surprise. He nodded with enthusiasm before heading to the bar. I followed behind him carefully, until I saw Avery beckon me into the chapel. Crossing the expansive space, through the crowd, I made my way to the double doors. Caine was at the table, already, smoking a cigar and pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Did you fuck him?" He asked immediately upon my entrance into the room. Avery rolled his eyes, but closed and locked the door behind him.
"Of course not!" I replied with a hint of venom.
"Good. I don't fuck used goods." Caine responded, stubbing the cigar out on the table. I took several calming breaths before throwing my phone on the table, face up. The screen showed the last picture I took: Darius cut up and broken, holding his legs to his chest. His forehead sported a new hole, courtesy of Caine's 357. I tossed the gun onto the table next to the phone. The gun shot had come after the tongue removal.
"That enough of a message for you?" I asked Avery. His rare smile spread wide across his face.
"Caine, I think we've struck gold."