The Pull | Jax Teller

Old Bones

Lip woke up in a great fucking mood. He didn't know why and he wasn't in an extensional crisis to figure it out. But he just felt great. Outside of the Meineke hiccup, the club seemed to be good outside of whatever was bubbling between Jax and Clay. But it was whatever right now.

His sister was happy. He could overlook her error of judgment in getting pregnant by Jax, but he was excited about being an uncle. Despite how much he loved his daughter, he had been excited for there to be a boy in the family. He loved every moment with his little man.

He was always anxious for the day his sister would finally settle down and start her own family. Even with their mother was terrible, for a lack of better words, it didn't rub off on Delilah. Even though she was the younger sister, she was always taking care of him.

And despite her being in school, she was a good aunt to Isla. Isla adored her aunt and Isla looked forward to every phone call and gifts.

He was glad another person would be on the receiving end of his sister's love.

So along with his sister's happiness, he had his daughter.

Despite her junkie mom and him going through their rough shit, she seemed to be doing good.

She was happy so in return, it made him happy.

It was the only reason he found himself tapping into his barely used cooking skills to make his daughter a feast before school.

He had made cheesy scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, bacon, grits, and even bought some fancy apple pastries that he warmed up.

Isla came out rubbing her sleepy eyes. "What's with the feast?"

Lip threw her a bright smile. "Just felt like cooking. Besides, I can't let this skill go rusty."

Isla didn't say anything, but slid into the chair and waited for her plate. Lip filled her plate up and he watched as his daughter greedily dug in.

"Wow, Dad, this is good. Why don't you cook more often?" She asked after wiping some syrup off her chin.

He shrugged his shoulders. He knew why he didn't as club business kept him from doing these simple mundane things. He had passed these responsibilities off to Neeta and his uncle.

"I'm going to try and cook at least once a week. I feel like we don't spend enough time together." He explained to her.

"Dad, we spend a lot of time together," she disagreed.

"What? You don't want to hang out with your old man?"

She rolled her eyes as he sent her a wink.

...

After dropping Isla off at school, with no pressing club business and not required to punch in a TM, he decided to take a ride through Charming. He hadn't done that in a while. He wished that the brotherhood sometimes would focus more on the riding than the business.

He wished everything wasn't about profit and loss.

He loved his club and his brothers, but sometimes he wasn't sure if it was all worth it.

He was on 44 when he noticed the construction going on, but stopped at the sight of a forensic team carrying what looked to be bones.

...

With damn near almost 25 years dedicated to this club, Tig had seen a lot of shit in his years. He had done a lot of shit especially when he took that Sergeant of Arms patch when Clay became President. Being a Marine for Uncle Sam paled in comparison to the shit he did for the SONS. Most of all, Uncle Sam couldn't even extract a percent of the loyalty he had for the SONS and his President.