The Killer Bartender | sons of anarchy

eleven

The feeling that my life was turning upside down would be an understatement. Not only did I have someone out to get me, but now I was also pregnant. The realization weighed heavily on me as I lay in the hospital bed, my mind a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. Happy had been my rock, his unwavering presence a beacon of strength in the midst of chaos. But I knew that I couldn't keep hiding the truth. The Sons of Anarchy needed to know everything, and it was time to face them, not because anyone was forcing me, but because I owed it to them—and to myself.

Days turned into weeks as I regained my strength. The physical wounds were healing, but the emotional scars ran deeper. Happy was by my side every step of the way, his support unwavering. But I knew that our bond—and our future—depended on honesty. The day had come to face the club and lay everything bare.

When we arrived at the clubhouse, the air was thick with tension. The Sons were gathered, their expressions a mix of curiosity, concern, and suspicion. Clay, the president, stood at the forefront, his eyes cold and calculating. He waved a hand, dismissing anyone who wasn't a member from the room.

"Alright, everybody out. This is club business," Clay commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. The non-members shuffled out, casting curious glances over their shoulders as they left.

Once the room was clear, Clay turned his attention to me, his gaze piercing. "Alright, Marisol. We're all ears. You've got some explaining to do."

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. Happy stood beside me, his presence a steadying force. I met Clay's gaze, then glanced around the room, seeing the faces of the men who had become my family. Jax, Tig, Opie, Chibs, Bobby, Juice—all of them looked at me with a mix of expectation and wariness.

"I know you all have questions," I began, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. "And I owe you the truth. No more lies, no more hiding. You deserve to know everything."

Jax stepped forward, his expression serious. "We're listening, Marisol. Start from the beginning."

I nodded, gathering my thoughts. "My name is Marisol Galindo. I'm the daughter of José Galindo, leader of the Galindo cartel. I know that's a lot to take in, but please, let me explain."

A murmur ran through the room, the weight of my revelation sinking in. Clay's eyes narrowed, his suspicion palpable. "Why didn't you tell us this before?"

"I was afraid," I admitted, my voice breaking slightly. "I didn't want to put any of you in danger. And I didn't know if I could trust you. But things have changed. Someone tried to kill me at my father's funeral, and I can't keep running from the truth. You need to know who I am and why I'm here."

Tig crossed his arms, his gaze intense. "So, are you a spy? Working for the cartel?"

I shook my head vehemently. "No, I'm not a spy. I'm here because I needed a way out, a chance to build a different life. The cartel's world is brutal, and I wanted something more. When I found the Sons, I saw an opportunity to start over, to be part of something that wasn't tainted by my family's legacy."

Opie spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "You should have told us. We've got enemies on all sides, and secrets like this can get us all killed."

"I know," I said softly, the guilt weighing heavily on my shoulders. "And I'm sorry. I was scared and I made a mistake. But I'm not your enemy. I'm here to stand with you, to fight alongside you."

Clay's gaze softened slightly, but his suspicion remained. "And the baby? Is it Happy's?"

I nodded, glancing at Happy who gave me a reassuring squeeze of the hand. "Yes, it's Happy's. We found out after the shooting. I didn't even know I was pregnant."