Never Kiss and Teller

The Boys are Back

The sun was warm against my skin as I stood outside the large gate to the mechanic shop. This place hadn't changed a bit, the same oil smell and the stank of old cigars.

 I sighed to myself and ran my fingers through my hair. I swore years ago I would never come back to Charming, never step take a single step back on this blood stained dirt. But I didn't have a choice. Not like I ever really had one to begin with.

The gate rolled open with the sound of scraping chain link. A young man with ruffled dusty hair, a long beard and a scrawny build looked at me. This was a face I hadn't met before. I walked up to him cautiously, my hands in the back pockets of my jeans,

"Is Gemma around?" I asked the scrawny man. He informed me that Gemma hadn't shown up yet this morning but I was welcome to wait for her inside. I nodded and followed him towards the garage.

The lot was empty much to my surprise, it wasn't even a quarter past nine and it was like a ghost town in here.  
"I'll give her a call and let her know your here. What's your name?" the scrawny man broke me out of my own thoughts. I hesitated to answer however, my tongue seeming to be tied by the conflict in my mind. Gemma would be the one person to either swallow you whole with affection or gut you where you stand. I wasn't sure which version I was going to get. 

A large hum of motors interrupted me answering and a band of Harleys rolled into the shop parking lot. 'Great' I thought to myself. I was hopping to catch Gemma before I ran into the guys. A few of the members looked at me, some with confusion as they did not know who I was. And others with to much admiration for my liking. My eyes however settled on the familiar Scotsman, 

"Well I'll be damned, Mira Jane Fuller." Chibbs called as I smiled at him. He put his helmet on the seat of his bike and walked to me with open arms. I noticed the stares from some of the new members as I hugged the Scottish man. Chibbs released me but the warm smile still settled on his features. 
"Come here kid," Tig went in for a hug after and I tapped his chest, easing him to a stop.
"Nice try Tig," he sulked at my forwardness but it quickly turned into a grin. Knowing that I was always one to stop his flirtatious attempts.

 Turning to face the rest of the group, they all wandered over. Each of them began greeting me one by one.  Bobby and Happy both hugged me tightly, squeezing the air from my lungs. Opie sent me a slight nod, and I knew that was the best I was going to get from him. 
Then I heard the intimidating voice I learned to avoid as a kid.
"What brings you back to Charming sweetheart?" Clay looked me up and down. Not in a gross perverted way, but the kind of look that formed his major question on why the hell I was here.  

You see, I had left Charming years ago, before everything went to shit. I knew I wanted more then what this run down town had to offer. Well at least outside of the drugs and the gang violence. Heaven known what happened behind closed doors. 

My father was the only thing that gave me the metal ties to Charming. He had been a Man of Mayhem my whole life. I remember the first time I sat on his Harley, my hands barely reached the handlebars as we putted around the parking lot of the T/M. As I grew older, it became more clear to my father's role within the club. His man job was forming communication between all the charters. Where ever the Sons were my father was there to keep them all connected. I never realized how deep the ties ran in my family, or just how much danger that had put my father in. The countless errands, the scouting for prospects, all of it was enough the keep my teenage self awake at night. Wondering if he was ever going to come home

 The "Message man", they all called him. A obvious nickname for a not so obvious man. Everything he did was a secret, any time I asked about his work. I always got the same answer. "The crows gotta fly, or it's gotta die, pumpkin," 

To say the least, he didn't want me involved. But at the same time, he could never give up the life. The life with SAMCRO

When I was turned twelve, that was the time my dad took on this "Message Man" position. And with my mother ditching when I was an infant, that resulted with him leaving me in the care of whoever could watch me at the time. Whether that be Gemma, Piney, anyone pretty much. I remember a few of the "babysitters" being the women my dad picked up the night before. Some were very nice, others, well let's just say they were far from trustworthy with children. 

Once I got old enough to know better, I moved across state lines to live with my Aunt Rosa, she wasn't really my aunt but she cared enough to move me in and away from the chaos. Including the whole of SAMCRO and the blonde haired boy that made me second guess all my life decisions. 

 During the year, I visited my father once every few months. Of course with how sparse the visits were, we rarely talked. Him slowly becoming a stranger to me with every passing year. He never attended my high-school graduation, my first time moving away to college, my college graduation. He was there for none of that and for some reason, I still loved him as much as I did when I was a child. Maybe with a few more grudges and hurt feelings then before but it wasn't something that I hadn't dealt with in the past. 

"Looking for some help," I stated bluntly, Clay's eye never wavering from my own. At one point I would probably cower away with just one glance, but I wasn't a kid anymore. Chibbs threw an arm around my shoulder.

"What do ya need from us?" I side glanced at Chibbs and pulled a note out of my jacket pocket. Handing it to Chibbs and his face said enough, and when the words of "Christ," he handed it to Clay. His face was puzzled by Chibb's reaction but he opened the note carefully
"Jesus," he passed the note off to Tig with disgust and the rest of the club all shared the same reaction.
"Found him like that with the picture pinned to his forehead two days ago,"  when I say no daughter wants to find her father brutality murdered in his motorhome, I wouldn't wish that upon anyone.
"Any idea who it could've been?" I gave Clay the "are you kidding me" face.
"You don't have the slightest clue?" Chibbs squeezed my shoulder and I snapped the picture back from a man in a prospect cut. Turning it over and shoving it back into Clay's hands.
"Read this," I stated and Clay looked at it again.
"Shit," he muffled, while running a hand down his beard.
"Yeah shit," I mocked, annoyed and saddened by the whole situation.
"He's not happy and he's coming for the rest of you," I stated, and Clay told Bobby to call the rest of the guys for a meeting. I didn't even want to face the blonde haired hot head but I knew he would find out I was here eventually.

 
A car pulled up into the T/M and a girl with short brown hair hopped out. Her features slim and body to match. And when she turned to fully look at me, it clicked.
"Oh fuck no," I fumed, ready to knock her head in with my fist. Chibbs held my shoulders, trying to contain my pint up anger.
"Not the time or the place," he whispered in my ears
"Why is she here?!" I shouted and Tara's face dropped upon recognition. I lunged at her and Chibbs held me back by wrapping an arm around my midsection.
"Come on Lassie," he motioned me to walk the other way, away from the estranged woman. 
"Do we forget she hit me with her car?!" I shouted and Chibbs sighed, already over my antics. Tig shrugged at Tara as we headed into the clubhouse.