Chapter Four:
Present Day
Jenny had convinced me to get manicures and pedicures one afternoon, a few weeks after my meltdown. Things with Jax were still tender and raw. I didn't have the emotional energy to talk to him, I'd zapped myself clean dry. Jenny had ensured me that a day of pampering was exactly what the doctor ordered.
"Come on Cass, when's the last time you got your nails done?" She asked this morning during breakfast. She and Adam had their own place next door, but she had come over every morning I was locked up to look after the kids, and the habit stuck. I thought again about the half written letters in my closet that held the answers to all the questions she'd asked. Maybe I should share them with her today. Maybe the easy way we'd readjusted to each other since I got out could withstand some honesty.
"Probably 6 and a half years." I told her seriously, sliding some fresh pancakes on Katherine's plate. I walked back to the stove, my bare feet smacking on the linoleum. I looked down at the offending appendages and considered her offer.
"You deserve a little relaxation, Sarge." Jenny continued sweetly. I tucked my hair behind my ear and stuck my hands in the back pockets of my short denim cutoffs. I had on a plain black long sleeve shirt and my usual cascade of necklaces, rings, and bracelets. Jenny was dressed like she always was: in designer threads that were artfully distressed; combat boots and ripped jeans with a too small tank top. She looked like a supermodel playing dress up as a biker bitch instead of the authentic version. But I guessed that's where her value came from; she could blend in, just like me, in high society and the suburbs and come out unmarred.
"Jax, are you okay with watching the kids today?" I asked him tentatively. The smile he gave me was sad.
"Of course, darlin. Y'all two have fun. I'll ask Gemma to help out." Jax barely spared me a second glance, his pride too much to overcome. I swallowed back the multitude of replies at the tip of my tongue and instead washed my hands at the sink.
"Great. Jennifer, let's go." I led the charge out of the house, grabbing my keys and cut along the way.
"Leave the cut, let's just be civilians today." Jenny asked, the look on her face pleading. I shook my head and put the cut back on the hook. I took my wallet from the breast pocket and resecured the gun on my ankle.
"I'm not walking out there without a weapon, Jennifer." I told her cheekily.
"I wouldn't dream of asking you to, Sarge." She replied, laughing. We moved almost simultaneously, taking our sunglasses out of our hair and placing them on our faces. She and I rode into the center of town drawing the eyes of patrons and law enforcement. A deputy in the Sheriff's department stopped in front of our bikes as we parked.
"We don't want any trouble, you hear me?" The young deputy was stern in his scolding, but the stiff crease in his uniform told me he was new here. I cut my eyes to my sister and let a small smirk bloom on my lips.
"Trouble, Officer?" Jenny asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
"What kind of trouble could the two of us gals get into?" I added, leaning on the handlebars of my bike to show off my ample cleavage. He gulped, clearly shocked at our antics. I threw the kid a bone by leaning back and smiling at him. "Don't worry, Deputy, we're just going to get our nails done. A manicure isn't illegal right?"
"No, it isn't. Have a good day." He replied curtly before leaving. I laughed with Jenny as we entered the nail shop, the bells ringing to announce our arrival.
"Two sets of manicures and pedicures please." I requested of the short woman manning the desk. She looked shocked, awed almost. Maybe she was new. Then again, the Deputy's reaction to us on Main Street was also bizarre. The short woman hadn't even pretended to check us in, simply choosing to stare at us.
"What the hell…" I started to ask my sister, turning to see her leaning against the wall next to the plethora of color choices.
"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in, boys." A voice I never expected to hear again boomed from behind me. The bells rang, a second too late, and before I could truly react, Clay Morrow had me against the wall, my face a hair's breadth away from the polish and my sister. She was snarling at one of the men Clay had brought with him, his forearm pinning her to the wall by her throat.
"You know better than to visit this side of the street, Jennifer Grace." The man holding her purred. It was two on two, and while I would bet we could cause some damage, Clay and his man outweighed us by at least 100 pounds each. I took a few deep breaths.
"You want to take her as this month's payment, Aggie, go ahead." Clay gave the man permission. Aggie used his knife to slice through the SAMCRO crop top Jenny was wearing. I growled.
"You fucking bastard, get away from her." I huffed out with as much venom as I could muster. Clay seemed interested in dislocating my shoulder slowly, as he pushed me against the wall with his full body weight. My vision clouded and I had to steel my features.
"You're not really in the position to make demands, are ya Miss America?" Clay whispered in my ear, grinding against my ass. "This side of the street is for the Hell Rainers. Stepping over that yellow line out there was all the provocation we needed to kill you." He sounded gleeful.
"Deputy Harrison was scared shitless, but he called me when y'all showed up nonetheless." Aggie smiles, flashing two fangs at Jenny.
"It was my fault." I growled, mentally cursing my little sister. "I begged her to bring us here. They had the best acrylic sets before I went in. I didn't know shit had changed. You, of all people Clay, should know how stubborn I am."
"I do know, and I can't wait to break your spirit." He turned my face so I had to look at his sneering grin. The bells went off and Clay reacted without looking. "We're closed!" He shouted. Instead of leaving, the newcomer cocked his glock and put it to Clay's head.
"I think you'd oughta step back old man. You're threatening a broad I care about." The Texas twang hit me square in the chest just as Clay backed off. I dropped, grabbing my gun from my boot and turned on the old man.
"If you ever touch me again, Clay, I'll feed you to Gemma's birds. Don't fucking test me." I said, leveling the gun at Aggie. I kept a two handed grip so no one would see how my hands were shaking. "Get away from my sister." I ordered. He didn't look happy, the tall brunette greaseball, but he obeyed.
"Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen," our savior quipped, opening the door for us to leave. "Cassia, get your ass through that door." I would've taken offense to his tone but instead I looked at him for the first time in 6 and a half years. Caine's chestnut brown hair was cut short for once, his green eyes covered by the aviators I'd bought him for his birthday my first year as a SAMDAL club whore. I scratched my arm through my long sleeve shirt and just stared at the man as soon as we were safely near our bikes.
"Who the fuck…" Jenny began but Caine stopped her.
"I think we should answer that later, when we aren't on enemy territory." He said, nodding to his bike, which was parked next to ours. "Hop on your man's bikes, ladies. Let's go." He didn't wait for us to agree, but we followed him anyway, ignoring his mention of our "man's" bikes. Before we got on the bikes, I grabbed Jenny by the arm.
"You have a fuck load of explaining to do, Jennifer Grace." I hissed at her, digging my nails into the flesh of her bicep.
"Jesus, Cass, I get it!" She squealed, wrenching away from me. "I'll tell you everything. Away from Jax." She whispered back, rubbing her upper arm.
4 Years Ago (Cassia's first year as SAMCRO)
I slammed the door to my old studio apartment with only half my strength, so I didn't break the damn thing off the hinges. I usually crashed at Jax's house, only staying in my apartment when we fought or I needed something that wasn't already at his place. I stripped once I locked the door and turned on the shower to the hottest setting. While I waited for the water to heat up, I poured myself a hefty shot of rum and threw it back. I repeated the process again, and finally took the third shot to the bathroom with me. The scalding water was the perfect temperature. I'd done this ritual back in Houston, after my father abused me. The hot water made me think I was burning off his touch. Now, it feels cleansing in a different way. As I lathered my loofah and washed the fear from my skin, the rum burned away my anxiety and left me perfectly relaxed in the way only liquor can do. I tried to use my relaxed state to puzzle out the issues in front of me.
My boyfriend has a child.
My boyfriend has been lying to me about Leroy.
My Club President has kept me out of meetings with the Niners.
My Club President doesn't trust me, his Sergeant at Arms.
The thoughts I was trying to reason with felt heavy and killed my buzz almost immediately. I reached my hand around the shower curtain and fumbled for the rum I'd been drinking. I felt the cool steel of my KABAR, the textured grip of my 357, and then finally a hand with a glass in his palm. I ignored the fact that clearly someone had found me and just thanked my lucky stars they'd handed me the alcohol.
"Cassia." Jax said from the other side of the curtain. Hearing my name in his voice broke me and I had to fight hard to hold back the tears that threatened to rack my shoulders and burst out of my chest. I slumped against the shower wall and took a few deep breaths. "Cassia." Jax tried again, his voice a little more firm, more presidential. I cracked, drinking the contents of my glass in one gulp before flinging open the shower curtain and hurling it at his head. Jax ducked, the lucky bastard, and the glass shattered against the wall.
"Get out or next time you won't be able to duck." I seethed, pulling the curtain back into place.
"We have to talk about this, Cassia." He replied. I rolled my eyes and lathered my loofah again. I ignored him as I washed my body methodically. He couldn't come into my apartment and make demands like he hadn't been lying to me for months. The thought of his lies wrenched, hard, in my stomach and twisted my intestines. I threw open the shower curtain and flipped the lid of the toilet up before all of the rum I'd drank came back up. The amber liquid burned on the way up and out more than it had going down. I retched, covered in suds, until finally I was dry heaving. Jax reached for me, his blue orbs leaking with pity. I snarled and retreated back into the shower.
I finished washing my body quicker so I could get this bullshit with my President, my boyfriend, over with. Stepping out of the shower, I was surprised to see that he'd left me alone. I opened the bathroom door and heard the familiar timbre of his deep voice. Okay, so I wasn't alone. I slammed my bedroom door and locked it, knowing it wouldn't stop him from entering the room but needing to have some semblance of control. To prove my point, a few moments after I'd moisturized and put on a pair of low slung pajama pants and a tank top, Jax entered the room. Seeing him brought forth another wave of nausea, so I pushed past him and retched bile into the toilet. It wasn't until I was sitting on the couch, with Jax facing me that I put the dots together. I shifted in my seat, feeling the waistband of my supposedly oversized pants digging into my abdomen.
The truth, as it often does, crept upon me quietly but hit me across the head. A favorite song of mine, Grounds for Divorce by Elbow, had said that doubt comes in on sticks but then he kicks like a horse. That's how I felt about the realization I was getting as each tiny mental puzzle piece fell into place behind my closed eyes.
"Cass, baby, I need you to listen to me," Jax began. But I stared at him with wide eyes.
"I'm pregnant." I blurted out. The words felt like the vomit I'd been expelling from my throat and soon I was leaning over my kitchen sink heaving again.
6 Years Ago (Cassia's in Dallas)
While I'd hoped Avery would simply whisk me away the next day, my rational mind reminded me that these things take time. I worked for the Club on the side, sending messages to enemies and honing my skills. I was by Caine's side every night, playing the doting main girl and pretending to want to be his Old Lady. My biggest fear had been Caine casting me aside when I started pulling jobs. I couldn't work for the club if I didn't have access, and my access was through Caine. He had the power to pull the rug out from under me, even if he didn't see it. While things had been tense between us, and while Caine spent more time fucking other women these days, he still kept his arm around my waist in public. He talked a big game, fought hard in the ring, and never made anyone question my place. Even the club whores he was fucking knew not to step to me. He wasn't okay with it, but he opted to mostly ignore my newfound usefulness.
Avery, on the other hand, pulled me aside often. He gave me jobs that ranged from recon missions to more kills. I'd delivered a man's tongue to his home one day, smiling at his confusion when I cheerfully presented him with a gift wrapped package. Other times he checked in with me, setting up one on one training sessions on all things Sons. Jimmy Jam caught me coming out of the Chapel more than once. Now my old friend won't talk to me when I arrive at the Clubhouse. He simply looks at me with disgust and moves on. He thinks I'm sleeping my way through the officers, trying to become the Queen. I don't know how to tell him I want to be a Knight, a Son.
Hell was a waiting room. It was sitting in a straight backed plastic chair, crowded into a 20 square foot space with hundreds of other people, waiting for your name to be called. It was the little moments that I resented the most: the rare moments in bed with Caine after sucking him off; laughing with the crow eaters on fight night; avoiding Jimmy Jam's judgemental eyes tracking my every movement; the swift whoosh of my KABAR slicing through my victim's skin; the prick of the tattoo needle as I started recording each instance of spilled blood. The waiting was my own hell, and after 6 months I was convinced I'd be waiting for the rest of my life.
I was watching the club girls swap rooms and Sons, knowing my freedom was tied to a man in a different way, when Avery called me into the Chapel. It was cold outside, weird for Dallas, and I was wearing jeans and a low cut sweater. It was the least revealing outfit I'd ever worn in these walls. Caine was sitting in his usual chair, his feet propped up on the table. He was chain smoking, the lit end of the cigarettes glowing in the near darkness. It was family night at SAMDAL's Boxing Corral, and the kids were set up in front of the projector with the Old Ladies and prospects while their fathers got blown or more in the dorms a couple floors up. The lights dim cast an eerie glow on Avery and Caine. Caine's form was almost completely lit up, the firey red of his cigarette the focal point. Miss Arizona, the 3rd runner up, would've loved to paint him like this. All hard lines and burning embers. Avery was shrouded in darkness, his jewelry polished to a shine that penetrated the near black of the Chapel. I found it hard to believe the universe would set this moment against this backdrop. The good guy in the dark, the bad one in the light. I tried not to focus on the poetry.
"He knows," is all Avery says when the door's locked and shut behind me. I tense immediately and reach for the gun in my waistband.
"Who knows what?" I ask, feigning innocence.
"That you played me, Cassia," Caine replied through the smoke. His eyes were hard emeralds and I wanted to shatter them into too many pieces.
"I never played you. I just don't want to be your Old Lady." I tried to reason with him, my voice strong but soft. He stubbed the half finished cigarette out on his jeans and sprung up to get in my face.
"What are you going to do when you get to Charming, huh? Sweet talk the first prospect you saw like you did here? Would you keep playing with the hearts and cocks of the Redwood Originals until you got the crown?" Caine was spitting in my face, but lighting up a second cigarette. I looked to Avery.
"You can't keep lying to him, Cass. He knows you want to be the Queen in Charming." Avery's tone held a profound meaning. My way out, free and clear: play the part of an ambitious club whore with coronation dreams. He'd have no reason to check up on a club whore who left for royal pastures and if he did tell someone in California I was headed that way, he wouldn't know the real story. It was so genius I was a little offended I hadn't thought of it myself. But deep down I knew why I never played that angle. The life of an Old Lady, especially the Queen, was more a prison than playing the part of a dutiful crow eater. It felt like a few steps backward from my goal. I trusted Avery completely, implicitly, so I confessed.
"Caine, I'm sorry you feel betrayed, but I've worn a crown my whole life. I lied, cheated, schemed, and negotiated my way to Miss America all for a crown. I'd never have been content being the Dallas princess. This is the best thing for both of us. You can find a busty blonde to wear your ink and I'll be walking the path I've strutted down since birth." I tried to deliver the news as kindly as I could, but Caine's palm slapped the table with enough force that I heard a screw drop from its place to the floor.
"You're a conniving bitch and the mother charter will never let you kill for them." He hissed, the light still illuminating his tense form. I wasn't scared of him, I'd battled bigger monsters in darker corners, but Avery stepped between us.
"You're out of line, VP. Take a walk." He ordered his voice that of an Outlaw President.
"That's why you never let me fuck you? Thought your virginity was an ace in the hole? Jax Teller has fucked hundreds of virgins and never kept one around. You've been saving it for nothing." Caine snarled as he exited. I took a fortifying breath as Avery encircled my waist with his arms. It was the first time he'd touched me, and I let myself melt into his embrace as much as I could.
"I need you to do one last job," Avery told me after a few moments of silence.
"Who?" I pulled away from him, sucking in another breath to clear my mind.
"Carl Petty. He stole from me. You finish that job and I'll get you to Charming and in front of Jax Teller."
"Done."