Chapter Five:

Present Day

Caine led our pathetic motorcade to the SAMCRO Clubhouse. Once parked, he didn't check to see if me and Jenny were following him, so I pulled her aside.

"I know him." I whispered, jutting my head in Caine's direction.

"That much is obvious." Jenny replied with a smirk. I glared at her but kept going.

"I don't want him to know that we're patched members yet, can you keep that on the down low for a little bit? I need to see why he's here."

"What do I get for keeping that secret?" Jenny had the balls to ask. I shoved her hard, but grabbed her by the shirt before she was able to fall down.

"I won't kill you for that stunt you just pulled. Taking us to the nail spot on Clay's fucking territory? You think I didn't fucking notice, Jennifer? Yeah, you'll play along." I sneered and let her go. My crazy ass sister just smirked at me, looking more amused than scared. We walked into the Clubhouse just as Caine had finished introducing himself to the whole club. The guys were lounging around, Jax and Chibs sat at the bar, Tig and Bobby at the pool table, and Opie was reading a magazine on the couch. It wasn't every day a patched member waltzed into the Redwood clubhouse without notice, but by looking at everyone's demeanor, you'd think it was a regular occurrence. I took note of the tension simmering just below my brothers' calm appearances.

"It's real nice of y'all to let me in for a bit. Avery's making some changes in Dallas and I'm feeling a bit…" Caine started, his back to me for the first half of his speech. He already had a drink in hand, and he swung around to Rat, who was manning the bar for a refill. He saw me and Jenny, then, and shut his mouth. He threw Jax and Opie a smirk, his head swiveling like a snake. "You mind, sweetheart? We've gotta talk club business." Caine's smile was gross and smarmy, like every man who didn't realize mine or Jenny's value or place. I loved catching jackasses like my ex off guard almost as much as I loved killing for SAMCRO.

"Oh? Club business? Well, I do declare Jenny, it might be time for us to head on out." I played up my Southern accent and adopted a doe eyed look. I twirled a piece of hair around my finger and bit my lip.

"Bless our little hearts." Jenny added in a dry tone.

"Listen, Cassia, I can't talk about this with you here, so either leave or I'll have to kick you out." Caine's voice was hard and uncompromising. There were a few beats of silence that I let him think I was seriously considering leaving, I even turned on my heel and shuffled my weight a bit before dropping the act.

"You're still such a dumbass, Ryan. You haven't looked at a single stitch of my ink? You think the mother charter of the damn Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club would let a fucking club whore run around with the reaper tattooed?" Jax and the boys let me rant, and according to Jax's stare full of heated desire I knew they wouldn't stop me.

"The fuck you just say to me?" He growled. I rolled my eyes and caught Jax's. He picked up my cut from the bar and threw it to me. I slipped my arms through the sleeves and smoothed it down the front. I took the gun from my boot and holstered it in my vest. I walked over to where Caine was standing slack jawed, and took his glass. I downed the liquor in a single gulp, feeling a little dramatic, and shoved the glass back in Caine's hands.

"I'm not a club whore, sweetheart. I'm the fucking Seargent." I loved the adrenaline that coursed through my veins in the silence that ensued. Caine tried to pick his jaw off the floor. Jax stood with his brow furrowed. And my dear friend Chibs was the first to break the silent moment.

"Ha!" He let out a bellowing guffaw and doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach. I smiled at the Scot, but Jax threw him a look.

"Now that that's been taken care of, Caine let's head into church." Jax asked, striding to the Chapel doors and gestures for us to follow him into the room. We took our seats around the wooden table, with me bringing up the rear and closing the door. Jax took out the bottle he kept in the President's cabinet and a few glasses. He sent the glasses down to Caine and Chibs, gave one to Opie and himself. He passed me the whole bottle.

"Let's start with how you know each other." Jax growled, looking at me. "Cassia?"

"I didn't exactly walk into the Dallas clubhouse and say 'I'm a fabulous assassin, please take me on.'" I was still feeling sarcastic, so I rolled my eyes. "It's not easy to gain the trust of a bunch of bikers, ya know? Hell, and I'm basically an expert in it."

"What did you do instead?" Opie asked, likely sensing Jax's building anger.

"I was on the fast track to being Caine's Old Lady. A few months into it, I approached him and the President at the time—Jonah Avery—and explained the value of using a third party contractor for some of their more sensitive jobs."

"She's exaggerating a bit. I made her my personal club whore after letting a new patch break her in." Caine retorted, sneering at me. Jax hit the gavel on the table so hard the gavel broke.

"You're really not making this any easier on yourself, pal." Juice commented from his seat at the table. Caine didn't even spare Juice a glance.

"She's a hot bitch with a good shot. She was right, send her into a crowded club with a KABAR and she can do more damage than anyone else. Clearly y'all already know that, you patched her in and made her Sergeant. The only thing I regret is letting her go without breaking her hymen. I should've piped her real good."

"I can't even begin to count the reasons I am so profoundly glad that I held out. You're an ass, Caine." I replied. Jax silenced me with a look.

"You should've listened to Juice. Cassia's my Old Lady now, too." Jax gave Caine a hard look. "And we don't talk about women like that around this table, in this charter."

"Yes sir, I understand."

"Caine, as entertaining as this is, what the hell does it have to do with SAMCRO?" He interrupted.

"Avery's lost it. He's fucking lost it. I don't know how else to say it, but the man we knew is gone. He let slip Cassia's location and I had to see her. She's the only person I know who can get through to him. The SAMDAL charter is gonna reenact the Civil War, man."

4 Years Ago (Cassia's First Year Patched)

Jax kept his distance from me for more than a week as I processed all of the changes that had been thrust in my lap. I took fourteen tests and confirmed what I already knew. I was as pregnant as I could be. Still, I made an appointment with the OBGYN and showed up. I didn't tell anyone, and chose a doctor a few towns over. I couldn't be too careful, and the news of Charming's SAA getting knocked up would be valuable on the streets, especially amongst our enemies. Still, I wasn't surprised when Jax's bike appeared behind me on the freeway. I did roll my eyes and up the pressure on the throttle, but I wasn't surprised. When we parked, I cut him a look.

"Good morning, beautiful. You look positively radiant today." He beamed at me as he took off his aviators and shook out his blonde hair. I grunted something inaudible and made my way inside. The nurses in the office were taken aback by two bikers in their waiting room. Or they were lusting after Jax.

"Do me a favor and try not to knock up any of these bitches while we're here, okay?" I growled under my breath as we waited in line to check in. It was a weird sight, seeing a man I'd watched shoot someone in cold blood and choke someone to death standing amongst heavily pregnant women and crying babies. I tried to shake off the small feeling of warmth that had wormed its way into my heart.

"Don't you worry your beautiful head about that, sweetheart, I'm a one woman man." Jax replied, still too cheery for my liking. I ignored him until we got to the check in counter.

"Cassia Belle Andrews." I told the nurse who quickly pulled up my information. Jax slipped a 100 bill under the glass separating us and gave her a megawatt smile.

"I'd love it if we could skip the line, darlin. We have places to be, if you catch my drift." The nurse melted at his smile and accent and I rolled my eyes and tried not to vomit. No more than 5 minutes later, my name was called and I was ushered into the doctor's office with a cup to piss in. After pissing, giving a blood sample, and going through a normal check up, Jax and I were finally left alone.

"How'd you know I'd be here?" I asked, still refusing to look at him.

"I know you, baby, for better or worse. I know how you think and what you're likely to do to keep this a secret from the Niners and the Mayans."

"Why'd you come?"

"Because we've gotta stop doing this. Shit gets rough, you pull away and that's it. We don't talk until we're fucking forced to and sometimes that feels too fuckin late." He sighed heavily and moved the doctor's rolling stool he'd claimed as his own, so he was right in front of me. The air conditioning was cool and the paper on the table scratched against my bare thighs. I tensed when Jax placed a palm over my belly. The muscles there had already pulled taut and I'd lost the softness of my stomach. "I'm not missing out on this one's first steps or first words. I don't want you storming into the clubhouse wearing a nomad patch and carrying a 4 year old."

"Jax. I don't want to cut you out of this kid's life. I'm just so tired of the secrets and you sneaking around behind my back. If we're going to have this baby, and be a family, you have to trust me and I have to trust you. We have to fucking communicate. And we're not doing any of that right now."

"I know, baby, I know. We have to be better, I have to be better. But I want this family with you. I want you to meet my son, to be his stepmom. And I want to be a family with you."

"Did you say the same thing to your other Old Lady? The bitch with your stamp?" I snapped, retreating as soon as the door opened. The doctor, a fairly young African American man, didn't comment on the tension in the room.

"Miss Andrews, I'm Dr. Rosegrove, it's nice to meet you." He held his hand out and I took it. He turned to Jax next. "Are you the father?"

"I'm her boyfriend." Jax replied, not taking the doctor's proffered hand. "Jax Teller." He continued. I liked my doctor already, because he didn't rise to Jax's provocation.

"Welcome. Miss Andrews, I've taken a look at your blood and urine tests. I estimate you're about 12 weeks pregnant. Congratulations! Now, you have some options but any actions to terminate the pregnancy will need to happen sooner rather than later. Have you considered what you'd like to do?" I looked at Jax, who was uncharacteristically silent. He was going to let me take the lead here. I put my hand on my firm belly and took a deep breath.

"I…" my breath caught in my throat and tears sprung in my eyes. "We're going to keep the baby. Raise it, all of it." I told the doctor. Jax rolled closer to me, but I couldn't look at him. Looking at him was painful, but not as painful as the thought of my future without him, even if it meant I had to swallow my pride.

There's something about biker gangs that the TV shows can never quite capture. It's not the frequency with which we battle death and win, or the way your club becomes family. But it's the level of importance even the most humble, selfless person places on their pride. In my world, the fear of my name is literally life and death. When someone hears about the Southern Assassin or the SAA of SAMCRO, or even just "Cassia Belle Andrews", they need to quake. It's the most important part of my life, and it keeps my family safe. Sitting on my bike, now, after the appointment with my top rocker proudly sewed on my back I thought about the way my pride would have to take a back seat. I was making decisions for myself, this baby, and my family. Each kill couldn't be just for glory, and my consequences didn't just land on my shoulders or the club's. I had everyone else to think about now. Jax and I rode in silence from Lodi to Charming. Me keeping a bit behind him and on his right the whole time. Halfway home, I noticed the black SUVs tailing us. I zoomed in front of Jax and straightened my spine. At the next red light, I pretended to stretch and flashed him the number 3. He revved the throttle. Stretching again, this time behind my back, I waved my left hand. Jax revved the throttle again. Seconds before the light turned green I took off like a light, veering to the right with Jax on my heels. We zig zagged through residential communities as I led us through an intricate plot to shake the 3 black SUVs. Finally, out of breath and miles from home, I pulled over on a deserted road and took my helmet off. I shook out my hair and wiped the sweat from my brows. Jax pulled up next to me and whipped off his aviators.

"What the hell is happening?" He asked, all business.

"3 unmarked black SUVs. Either the Feds or the Niners. Not friends, that's for damn sure." I scoffed.

"Not that! I meant what's up with you taking the lead? All those dangerous turns at high speeds? You're pregnant, Cassia!" He screamed, throwing his helmet to the ground.

"Jax, I was going 35 and also that's literally the plan we discussed for these situations. I don't get why you're pissed! We could have led enemies right into our town, and I stopped it from happening. What the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem is, you're carrying my child and you can't be making dangerous decisions by yourself anymore! You are pregnant, and you just said we were going to keep the baby. Do you understand what that means?!"

"Fuck you, Jax. Of course I know I'm pregnant! I'm the one who told you. And unlike you, I believe in communication. If you didn't like the plan, you shouldn't have revved the damn throttle to agree with it! We can't keep fucking doing this." I screamed back, pushing him with all of my strength. Jax stumbled back a couple steps, in surprise. His hair was picked up by the wind and twisted behind him. My chest heaved from the adrenaline and my own black locks tangled in front of me. "You didn't tell me about the meetings you had with Leroy. You haven't bothered explaining who that woman was. I'm your Sergeant at Arms, I'm your old lady, and you've completely shut me out. What am I supposed to do with that?" I shuddered out on an exhalation before mounting my bike again. I didn't wait for him but took off toward Charming again. He didn't even try following me home, he just let me be.

6.5 Years Ago

The nights were running together. Once a week I took care of things for the Club, giving them plausible deniability if the cops or another crew came after them. This week's problem was a Thursday. Staring at his lifeless eyes, I tried to gather some sort of enthusiasm for seeing Caine later in the day.

"You know the craziest fucking thing about this, Carl? I have to pretend to be a pretty little trophy when I'm done with you." I told the dead man, preparing the bath with lye and bleach. I'd already knocked out his teeth and cut off his fingertips. Avery and Caine wanted a special message for poor Carl here, who tried to sell two gangs the same deal on SAMDAL's guns. I was to leave the torso propped against a crate of AK-47's with a rival gang's symbol cut into his flesh. But the rest of the body was to be dissolved in lye and bleach. The bosses were hopeful that he'd be long dissolved before anyone cared to find him. In the year I'd been SAMDAL's secret hitman, this was the most gruesome killing I'd done. Avery had taught me on the particulars for a month before assigning the cases where I had to dispose of the body.

"A meek, but expensive, trophy for everyone to look at while Caine does coke off my tits." I smoothed out the tarp. "It's a weird line I'm walking here Carl. Caine needs to think I'm happy being kept under lock and key. Caine needs to feel this, Caine needs to think that. I have never, in my life, cared less about what Caine feels than I do at this moment." I hacked off his limbs, carefully placing them in the lye. I was quiet for a moment while I worked. "But I get it. He's my first connection to the club, and that's what matters here. He lends me credibility that I need for Charming. And how fucked is THAT, Carl? That the pile of bodies I've left in my wake isn't proof enough that I have the balls to earn my top rocker." I sawed through the upper leg with a bit more gusto. "It's this damned patriarchal society, I'm telling you." The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I grabbed my 357 and pressed myself against the nearest wall.

"Carl you ass! Making me walk up all these goddamn steps? I'm putting an extra 100 on your tab!" A woman with a heavy New York accent cried as she ran up the steps of Carl's shitty apartment in the roughest part of Dallas. I was surprised Carl's fat ass could get up and down the rickety wood slats without breaking them. Carl's steps led directly to his front door, which was 45 degrees to the left of my hiding spot. I had a half a second to decide when I heard the lock click. I wish I could say that I had doubted my decision. That I'd at least thought long and hard before pulling the trigger, but if I wasn't going to keep my dignity, my pride, or my conscience then I was damn well planning on keeping my honesty in tact. I shot her between the eyes and eventually I added her limbs to the bathtub of lye.