Bailey 'The Bullet' Teller

.23.

"M'sorry I took so long to come visit." Bailey apologised, and she sat down on the grass, her kutte covered back resting on the cold stone. "Was gonna come sooner, but I didn't really know what to say."

She sighed and cracked open two beers, resting the back of her head against the smooth surface. After lighting a cigarette and taking a few pulls of beer, she looked up at the darkened sky.

"I know i missed a lotta birthdays, and Christmases." She carried on. "And death days." She almost chuckled. "Always sat somewhere I thought you'd like though, Central Park, beaches, ontop o'hills in Belfast."

"Guess i should probably appologise f'patchin' into the Club. Again." Bailey hummed. "But i read your manuscript, tore through that thing in two days." She chuckled. "Me an' Jax are gonna change the Club, Pops." She promised. "When Clay steps down, Jax is gonna do what y'wanted to. He'll probably have Ope as VP, but Ope'll follow him. They all will. Tiggy'll be the only stubborn one, but he'll do what he's told."

"I still don't know about the whole Heaven an' Hell thing, but I like t'think y'can see what we're up to. Jax's son is the cutest, a lil fighter. Jax is doin' okay too, a bit conflicted, but he's okay. I stayed smart, apparently. Had more jobs than I can remember the last seven years, not all of 'em good, but I had a blast on a whole." She spoke quietly and softly as she smoked, listening to the gentle breeze rustle the wrapping of flowers and leaves that were on the ground.

"I met Maureen and Trini." Bailey chuckled. "They're both great. Maur misses you still, I think. Trini has no idea who you are. Doesn't know m'her sister. Don't think Jax knows about 'em either. But I gather that's how y'wanted it. I won't tell him."

"I don't think he'd mind too much, though. M'pretty sure mom and Clay were a thing while y'were in Ireland all the time. I know it should probably bother me, you and Maur, Mom and Clay. But it don't. I don't think many marriages last losin' a kid. That ain't nothin' either o'you needed t'hide. At least not from me. If anythin' it kinda pisses me off that y'tried to live a lie, f'me and Jax." She went off on a tangent.

"Pops?" Bailey drew out with a smirk as she sheepishly approached her dad in the garage as he worked on his bike since Lowell was off sick.

"Yeah, Princess?" He chuckled.

"Me and Mama were at the storage unit." She began to explain sweetly, John grinning away because he knew she was about to ask permission for something she shouldn't. "And I saw Jax's old dirtbike."

"Oh yeah, which one?" He asked, clocking eyes with a few of the guys who were chuckling at the small girl.

"The YZ - 4 - 6 - 5." She spoke slowly, racking her brain for the right numbers and letters. "It's just sittin' there, gettin' old. It needs love."

"What? Y'think we should sell it?" He teased slightly.

"No!" She rushed, almost horrified. "Can we fix it up? So i can ride it?"

"Did y'ask Jax if you can have his bike?" John asked.

"Yeah. He said he don't care. It's too small for 'im." She beamed. "And Mama said t'ask you. Since you're the one who's scared I'll get hurt."

By now, Tig, Chibs, and Otto were all sniggering as they listened to the girl defend her case. They all knew Bailey was as much of a sucker for a dirtbike as her older brother. And they all knew John was a sucker for the sweet smile she had on her face.

"What's wrong with your bike?" John chuckled.

"I can't race with the 50." She shrugged.