Daughters of Anarchy.

Chapter 1: Street Creds and Bad News.

--Isis's POV--

It was silent except for the constant dripping of IV bag that was just disconnected, the patter of the running feet of the nurses on staff, the constant screeching of the heart moniter attached to my Aunt Tara's heart finally stopping.

I tried to will the tears to come but the truth was, Tara, my aunt was a crack addict. She'd overdosed over five times in the past three years. She wasn't always like this, of course. She was a successful business woman with great things ahead, but like any woman she had a weakness. She like every woman craves attention, and that she got from Eric Hassle.

He swept her off her feet until she was so addicted to crack and drugs that she couldn't function without them. Eric was a dealer, with loads of cash. He was around a little bit after we moved in at 6 years of old. The only reason he didn't involve us in his sex trafficking and dealing business is because he was scared of our fathers.

Yes, our fathers. Nicolas Kaleb 'Reaper' Dillinger is my father. He's the president of The Reaper's MC. He lives for his club and he deals within the club. My father is the type of man to go all in or not at all.

He was young when he took the president position because my grandfather died when I was young, my mother she was really against it. She was a picket fence type of woman or so she thought anyways. I use to hear stories all the time about how my mother would complain but she loved her club just as much as she loved me and my father. My mother was beautiful too. Yes, she was.

My mother was shot dead, trying to protect me, in a drive-by shooting at a small cafe in my hometown when she, my Aunt Katrina, Kenna and I were having lunch together. I remember that day so clearly, it was a beautiful day, my mother and her best friend were so close, Katrina May Capone was like another mother to me and her husband, Anthony Gabriel 'Diablo' Capone was like a second father.

They all grew up together, just like Kenna and I did. After the shooting, our fathers thought it would no longer be safe for us, so they shipped us off to my aunt. I sigh loudly. I won't lie and say that I'm not very pissed at my father for his idiocy and being a behind the scenes father, because danger is everywhere and to be honest, it's in our blood to break laws.

It just happens. I look across the room at Kenna whose leaning against the crisp white hallway.

"Miss Capone and Miss Dillinger, I presume?" A crisp and professional voice speaks from my right and Kenna's left.

"Who's asking?" I speak harshly at the woman that stands in a black business suit and fake pearls around her pale neck.

Her face is caked in expensive makeup and perfume wafts off of her that resembles the smells like a whore-house. She clears her throat and sticks her hand out with a smile that seems fake.

"Marie Cartson, I'm the social worker that was assigned to your case." She speaks all business with her hand still in the air.

"Look lady, get to the point." Kenna speaks rudely.

We don't really take lightly to outsiders.

"I'm here because of your current guardian's death." She spoke with pity.

"Look, we don't need your pity. Just tell us what the fu©k you want!" I curse at her loudly.

"Uh-hh. I-I." She clears her throat loudly, and starts over. "Since your guardian is um dead...You only have one other guardian to live with until your legal." Marie explains softly.

I wait for her to elaborate but Kenna has never been patient.

"Speak b!tch, you're wasting my time." I smirk at her and nod in agreement.