💘( The Matriarch! )✨

TWENTY EIGHT

[ Oiled ]

( 🏍️💀💘👪💒🔫 )

" She's got a reach that stretches far beyond Belfast. She sees everything, hears everything, and strikes without mercy. There's a reason they call her the Angel of Death. Bringing the girl here...you've given her a reason to turn our home into her own personal battlefield. "

~ FATHER KELLAN ASHBY to CAMERON HAYES 

☆《》¤

THE CHURCH LOOMED OVER THE STREETS OF BELFAST, the high flames of the lit candles casted flickering shadows against the worn wooden pews. The air was thick with the scent of incense burning. The hollow sound of distant prayers echoed faintly through the vast space, yet within the confessional, silence reigned.

Cameron Hayes stepped into the booth, his movements rigid. His breath came in shallow gasps as he sat, shutting the small door behind him. He could feel the weight of the church pressing down on him, the judgment of God burning through the wooden mesh separating him from Father Kellan Ashby. The rosary in his hands felt foreign, the beads slipping through his fingers as if they too were condemning him for his sins.

He swallowed hard, the taste of guilt bitter on his tongue. His voice, when he spoke, was a mere whisper, hoarse from sleepless nights and the torment of his own thoughts, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's...It's been months since my last confession." 

The silence that followed was suffocating. Cameron could hear the distant drip of water vibrating off the walls of the church. His hands shook as he gripped the rosary tighter. His words clung to the back of his throat, fighting to stay hidden. But they clawed their way out, desperate to be heard, "I killed a man," he began, his voice cracking. "And then, I...I kidnapped someone. A girl. An innocent girl." 

The image of Letty Morrow, bound and terrified, flashed in his mind. Her wide, frightened eyes haunted him, a reminder of the line he had crossed. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memory, but it was no use.

"Letty Morrow," he continued, his words barely audible. "She's the daughter of the woman who killed my son. I thought...I thought it would bring balance, some kind of justice. I just wanted them to feel the way I did, Father. To lose what they love most. To suffer the way I've suffered."

Father Kellan remained silent, allowing Cameron the space to confess, to unburden his soul. The priest knew that words of comfort or admonishment could wait. What Cameron needed now was to speak.

Cameron's breath hitched, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as if the weight of his sins were physically pulling him down, "I made so many mistakes. Against God...what I believe," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Can't see a way out. Don't know what to do. For these and all my sins, Father, I am sorry." 

The confession booth seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in as his breathing became more erratic as panic welled up inside him. 

Father Kellan's expression remained calm, though the weight of Cameron's words pressed down on him as well. He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but firm, "There are, uh, very serious sins. You've broken your link to God, my son. This girl, Letty...she is not your enemy. She's a victim, just like you. You need to be willing to repay all those you have caused pain. Mend the wreckage." 

Cameron clenched his jaw, his fists tightening around the rosary beads until they dug into his skin. The truth in Father Kellan's words was like a knife twisting in his gut, painful but undeniable, "Eh. I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm willing, Father." 

Father Kellan's eyes softened, though his resolve remained firm, "Then, by the almighty and merciful God, I grant you pardon, absolution and remission of your sins," he recited, preforming the cross. "Amen," he said, his hands clasped tightly in prayer. 

Cameron's shoulders slumped, the fight leaving him as exhaustion took over. He bowed his head, clasping his own hands in prayer, "Amen," he whispered. 

"Your penance...five Acts of Contrition. Say them fast, Cousin," Father Kellan said as he rose to his feet and made it out of the confessional. 

Hearing the movement beside him, Cameron rose slowly, his body feeling like it was made of lead. As he stepped out of the booth, the door creaked shut behind him, the sound echoing through the empty church as he came face to face with his much older cousin. 

"We need to talk," he announced, his face becoming stern. The man knew that Cameron's road to redemption was far from over, and the consequences of his actions were yet to fully unfold.

As the men stood face to face, the church fell eerily quiet, but the storm brewing in Belfast was far from over.

***

Inside the small holding cell of the Charming Police Department, Juice was on his hands, pumping out push-up after push-up, his muscles straining with every movement. Sweat dripped from his forehead, pooling beneath him, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

His knuckles, bruised and swollen from the brutal assault at Half-Sack's memorial, burned with every push. The memory of that man's blood on his fists, the sound of bones cracking beneath his rage, echoed in his mind. But that was nothing compared to the storm raging inside him. Letty was out there, somewhere. 

"Twenty-eight...twenty-nine..." Juice grunted through gritted teeth, pushing his body harder. He had to stay strong. For her.

His mind raced with thoughts of Letty - her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the way she looked at him like he was her whole world. The memories played on a loop, mixing with the darker thoughts, the what-ifs, the fear gnawing at his gut.

Charming 

2008

Juice stepped through the front door, exhaustion clinging to him like the dust from the road. The familiar hum of the house greeted him, and as he shut the door behind him, he inhaled the comforting scent of home - spices, herbs, and something cooking in the kitchen.

A smile tugged at his lips as he dropped his bag by the door, kicking off his boots. He could hear Letty humming to herself, her voice light and sweet, blending with the clatter of pots and pans. He followed the sound, his fatigue fading with every step.

When he reached the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame. There she was, standing at the stove, her back to him, swaying slightly to the music playing from a small speaker on the counter. She was wearing one of his old Samcro t-shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on her small frame, and her hair was tied up in a messy bun.

Juice felt his heart swell as he watched her. She moved with such ease, such grace, even in the most mundane of tasks. It was moments like these that grounded him, reminded him of what mattered most. She was his anchor, his light during the chaos that was their life. 

Letty must have felt his gaze because she turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. When her eyes met his, her lips curved into a soft, loving smile, "Welcome home, baby."

Juice grinned, unable to help himself, "I've been thinking about this moment all day," he said, motioning for her to come over, his fingers curling in invitation.

She laughed lightly, setting down the wooden spoon she had been using to stir the sweet and sour sauce simmering on the stove. Wiping her hands on a towel, Letty made her way over to him, her smile never fading. When she reached him, Juice pulled her over to the dining table, taking a seat, he immediately guided her onto his lap.  

"Miss me?" he murmured, his hands resting on her hips as he gazed up into her eyes. 

Letty's fingers found their way into his hair, lightly tugging as she leaned down to kiss him, "Excessively," she whispered against his lips, before capturing them in a deep kiss.

A growl escaped the back of Juice's throat as his hands tightened on her thighs, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, their tongues mingling together. The feeling of her warm body pressed against his, ignited a spark that had been smouldering all day.

Without breaking the kiss, Juice stood up, his hands gripping her ass as he lifted her off the chair. Letty let out a surprised laugh, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he began to walk toward the stairs, "Juice, the food--" she started to protest, her words breaking with another giggle as he placed kisses down her neck. 

"Forget the food," Juice muttered into the crook of her neck, his voice rough with desire. "I want dessert first." 

He didn't give her a chance to argue, carrying her up the stairs with ease. Every step was filled with kisses and quiet laughter, the world outside fading away. When they reached the bedroom, Juice pushed the door open with his foot, his eyes locked on hers.

With a playful growl, he tossed her onto the bed, her laughter vibrating off the walls as she landed among the pillows. Juice paused for a moment, just long enough to take in the sight of her sprawled out on his bed, her hair wild, her cheeks flushed. God, she was beautiful. 

And then he slammed the door shut behind him as he stalked toward her with purpose, all thoughts of dinner forgotten.

But he couldn't let that fear consume him. He had to brush it off, shove it down, and focus on what mattered: finding her. He wasn't going to let himself spiral, not again. He couldn't afford to.

"Thirty-five...thirty-six..." His arms trembled, but he forced them to keep going.

Chibs' words echoed in his head, grounding him, giving him the strength to push through, "You can't let your grief paralyse you. You have to fight. We all need to fight to bring her home."

Chibs was right. He needed to fight. Letty was out there, scared and alone, and he was the one who had to bring her home. No one else. He wasn't going to fail her again.

Juice let out a growl, pushing himself up for another rep, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his knuckles. He could take the pain. What he couldn't take was the thought of Letty being hurt, the thought of her needing him and him not being there. Again. 

His breath came in harsh gasps as he continued, pushing his body to the limit. The pain, the exhaustion, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except Letty. He wasn't going to let himself fall into that dark place again. He couldn't afford to break down. He had to be strong, for her.

"Forty-three...forty-four..."

The numbers were just a way to keep his mind occupied, to stop himself from drowning in the fear and guilt that clawed at him. He had to stay focused. He had to keep going.

Juice finally collapsed onto the cold floor, his chest heaving, his arms trembling with exhaustion. He stared up at the ceiling, the fluorescent light flickering above him. His body spent, but his mind...his mind was more determined than ever.

He wasn't going to stop until he found her. He couldn't.

Rolling onto his side, Juice curled his bruised hands into fists, ignoring the sting of torn skin and raw knuckles. He would do whatever it took. He would tear apart the entire world if he had to.

Because Letty was his world, and he wasn't going to lose her. Not now, not ever.

Pushing himself back up, Juice sat with his back against the cold, hard wall. His breaths were still ragged, his body aching, but there was a fire burning in his chest. A fire that wouldn't go out until he had her back in his arms.

"I'm coming, baby," he whispered to himself. "I'm gonna bring you home." 

And when he did...when he finally had Letty back...nothing would ever take her away from him again.

***

Letty lay bound on a unfamiliar bed, her wrists raw from the ropes that had been digging into her skin for what felt like an eternity. The room around her was a haunting reflection of normalcy - pictures of a girl her age, shelves filled with books and trinkets that might've been comforting under different circumstances. But here, they only served to remind her of how far from safety she was.

Tears slid down her face, carving tracks into her skin, but she barely noticed them anymore - she was so sick of crying. Her body ached, both from the physical torment and the emotional hell she was trapped in.

Taking a shaky breath, Letty shifted as much as she could and ran her fingers over the crow tattoo on her ribcage. The simple act of touching it brought the faintest sliver of comfort - Juice. He was the only thing keeping her going. 

Her mind wandered to him, imagining his arms around her, the way he used to look at her like she was his entire world. She could almost hear his voice, feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. The crow...she had gotten it to show him what he meant to her, but now it was the only anchor she had left, the only reminder of the love of her life. 

Letty closed her eyes, her fingers tracing the lines of the tattoo over and over again, "I need you, baby," she whispered into the darkness, her voice hoarse. "I miss you so much." 

Charming 

2008

As Juice hovered over Letty, their kisses growing more heated, he began to trail his lips down her neck, over her collarbone, and along the curve of her chest. His hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, tugging it up as he continued his path downward, leaving a line of soft, lingering kisses in his wake.

But when he reached her ribs, Juice paused. His gaze caught on something new - a tattoo etched into her skin, stark against the softness of her flesh. He froze, his breath catching as he studied the ink.

Juice's eyes widened in surprise, "What's this?" he asked, his voice hushed as he looked up at her, a hint of disbelief in his tone.

Letty giggled softly, propping herself up on her elbows to meet his gaze, "Got a new tattoo today," she said with a playful smirk, watching his reaction closely.

Juice blinked, still processing, "You...got a crow?" he asked, a mix of shock and pride colouring his voice. Letty had never been one to want the traditional old lady label, always valuing her independence, and he'd respected that. But seeing this, it sent a rush of emotions through him that he hadn't expected.

"Not just any crow," she said, leaning closer to his lips as she whispered seductively, "Your crow," she giggled, biting her bottom lip, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "I never thought I'd want to be someone's old lady, Juice. But with you...it's different. I wanted to do this. For you." Her fingers traced the outline of Juice's name as she looked up at him with a soft, almost shy smile, "Words don't always come easy to me, especially the ones that matter most," she began, her voice gentle but sincere. "And I know I haven't been able to say I--But you need to know how much you mean to me. How much I care about you. I wanted to show you, even if words fail me sometimes. This tattoo - it's not even a fraction of what I feel for you."

Juice stared at her for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as the meaning of it all settled in. She had done this for him. She had chosen to wear his crow, to mark herself as his, not because it was expected, but because she wanted to.

His throat tightened, overwhelmed by the gesture, "Letty..." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The way she looked at him, with such love and trust in her eyes, made something inside him snap. That familiar surge of possessiveness, of wanting to claim her, protect her, love her with everything he had, flared up in full force. He leaned down, pressing a slow, reverent kiss to the tattoo on her ribcage, his lips brushing against the ink as if sealing the bond between them.

Letty's breath hitched at the sensation, her fingers threading through his hair as he kissed her again, this time lower, more insistent. Juice could feel his pulse quicken, his desire for her intensifying.

"You've got no idea what this does to me," he murmured, his voice rough with both affection and want as he moved back up her body, his lips finding hers again in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands gripped her hips possessively as he pressed himself against her, unable to hold back any longer.

Letty giggled again, breathless, feeling the heat of his desire and the weight of his emotions, "Take what's yours, baby," she moaned, her head snapping back, her voice catching as Juice's kisses became more urgent.

"Mine," he growled softly against her lips. "You already were, but now...now the whole fucking world knows nobody can have you but me." 

Letty smiled against his mouth, her hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer, "I'm all yours, Juice. Mind, body and soul." 

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a low groan, Juice deepened the kiss, his hands exploring her body as if memorising every inch of her. He was rock hard by this point, driven by the fact that she had chosen to do this for him. This wasn't just sex, it was a reaffirmation of everything they were to each other - something deeper, something that couldn't be broken.

And as they lost themselves in each other, the world outside fell away, leaving just the two of them, their love, and the crow that now marked Letty as his forever.

At the sound of the cage door opening, Juice immediately pushed himself to his feet, "Am I out?" he asked Unser, who stood by the entrance. 

"Under the circumstances, I can make an exception for the obstruction charge," Unser explained, stepping aside to let Juice out of his cell. 

Juice immediately grabbed his shirt from the bed, throwing it on as he made his way out of the cell, "Thanks," he said, but stopped just before reaching the door and turning back to Unser, taking note of the grief that etched the older man's face. He took a breath, his voice low and sincere as he spoke, "I'm sorry for your loss, man. Hale...he wasn't just some badge to Letty, you know? He was trying to do right by her. I'm grateful for what he did, for everything he tried to do to help find her. I know he didn't have to, but...he did. And that means something." He paused, his voice thick with emotion, "I just wanted you to know that. I won' t forget it."

Unser looked at Juice, his eyes weary but touched by the young man's words, "Thank you, Juice. Hale did care, more than a lot of folks knew. It's good to hear that you see that. And I know he wasn't always easy to deal with, but he had a good heart. He was trying to make things right, for Letty and for this town. Knowing you appreciate that...it means something to me too. But this attack...I know what it means, what you guys got to do--" 

Juice cut him off, immediately shaking his head, his features hardening, "I don't give a shit about retaliation. I'm gonna find my girlfriend," he declared, before turning around and storming out with a determined stride. 

***

The muted light filtering through the stained glass windows of the church casted a sombre glow over the wooden pews. Dust particles dance in the beams of sunlight, making the air in the church feel heavy with the weight of past sins and unspoken truths. 

In one of the back pews, Cameron sat, a man filled with anxiety and fear. His dark eyes sharp and wary, darting occasionally toward the entrance as if expecting someone to appear.

Next to him sat Father Kellan, his expression one of calm resolve and practiced patience. His clerical collar neatly in place, and his hands clasped in his lap, "Showing up at Maureen's was very risky, Cameron." 

"I know." He sighed, lowering his head in guilt - he didn't mean to put his family at risk. "I had no place to go." 

"She's got a reach that stretches far beyond Belfast," Father Kellan continued, making sure Cameron knew the risk he had casted upon them all by coming to Maureen's for help. "She sees everything, hears everything, and strikes without mercy. There's a reason they call her the angel of death. Bringing the girl here..." he said, his voice stern as he shook his head in disapproval. "You've given her a reason to turn our home into her own personal battlefield." 

"Oh, God," Cameron croaked, burying his face in his hands as a sob escaped the back of his throat. "She thinks I'm a tout, Kellan, doesn't she?" 

Father Kellan remained calm, his gaze on the altar as he rested his elbows on the back of the pew, "Not true." 

"ATF set up Eddy," Cameron continued, the tears stinging his eyes as he met the Priest gaze once more, almost pleadingly as he said, "Just want to be able to plead my case to the council." 

Kellan turned to face Cameron, his features softening as he reached out and placed his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing soft circles on his skin, "More than one strike, Cammy." 

"I know. Never should have made that deal with the A.B.," he said, shaking his head, mentally scolding himself - he was an idiot. "Just thought, knowing her plans for pushing out the Sons--" 

Kellan's features immediately hardened as he retracted contact with his cousin, "She doesn't make those decisions!" he snapped, fists clenched in anger. 

Cameron scoffed in amusement, "Who are you kidding, cousin. We all know who really runs things here - the Irish answer to her." 

"That's enough!" Father Kellan seethed with uncontrolled fury, his face turning a slight shade of red. "You killed a man that was part of an organisation that we have been allied to for more than 20 years. You kidnapped the adopted daughter of the man responsible for that union - John Teller was a friend." 

"The girl's fine, Father," Cameron assured him. "She's back at Mo's. I didn't lay a hand on her, I swear it. I know our history runs deep with the Sons, but Jesus, Kellan, it was John's old lady who murdered my boy. There's got to be some understanding of that," he pleaded, his eyes wet with unshed tears. 

Father Kellan paused for a moment, thinking it through, before he slowly nodded, "I'll speak to Jimmy and the council. But the Lady of the North will require some further thought." 

Cameron let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in as relief took over his features, "Thank you." 

***

REY'S OUTFIT 

Juice emerged from the police station with a mix of relief and exhaustion etched into his features. The glaring light, making him squint as he stepped out into the open air.

The familiar rumble of motorcycles and the low murmur of voices greeted him. The scent of gasoline and exhaust fumes filled the air, mingling with the anticipation that hung thick over the parking lot. Samcro's members had gathered, a sea of leather, waiting for him. 

As Juice walked down the stairs, Chibs was the first to break away from the group. His stride was purposeful, a mix of concern and relief in his expression. He approached Juice, his leather cut swinging with each determined step, "Juicy boy!" he called out, his voice gruff but softened with warmth. "It's about damn time. How are ye holding up, lad?" 

Juice managed a tired smile as Chibs pulled him into a bear hug. The embrace was tight, full of the unspoken words of friendship and solidarity.

"I'm good, brother," Juice replied, his voice laced with fatigue. "Just glad to be out."

"That's good," Chibs said, clapping Juice on the back. 

Jax, Clay, and the other members of Samcro began to gather around, showing a mix of supportive nods and teasing smirks.

Jax stepped closer, placing a heavy, reassuring hand on Juice's shoulder. His gaze was filled with empathy, "We were worried about you, man. You alright?" 

"I'll be okay," Juice replied as he glanced at the rest of his brothers, who gathered to greet him, a small smile gracing his face. "Once we get her back." 

Chibs nodded in agreement, his gaze steady and supportive, "That's a good lad," he said, gripping the back of his neck and giving him a playful shake. "We gonna find our girl - bring her home." 

"So, what do we know about the shooter?" Clay asked Unser, who had approached them, while he leaned against the railing of the staircase. 

"His jaw, cheek and nose are busted," Unser explained. 

Laughter erupted amongst the bikers, all of them joyfully reaching over to give Juice a pat on the back, making him grin widely. 

"Thatta boy, Juicy!" Chibs cheered, shaking the boy's shoulders. 

"Mayan?" Bobby asked seriously. 

Unser shook his head, "No. Few priors, but no known affiliations." 

"It don't make any sense," Opie chimed in with furrowed eyebrows. 

"Tell me about it," Unser muttered, just as confused as the much taller man. 

"You baby-sitting at St. Thomas?" Clay inquired, knowing they had to question the guy. And by question, he meant threaten. 

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "Sanwa D.A.'s all over it. Getting him to flip on the ones that got away. On the subject of, uh, fugitives, I got some news on your bride," he said, catching Clay's full attention. "Zobelle's girl...nine mil in her hand when she hit the floor." 

"Self-defence?" Jax chirped in. 

"Possibly. Irish kid took two in the back. That's still looking like murder one." 

"Well, that's something," Clay said, pushing off the railing as he was pulled aside by Juice. 

"Hey, where are we at with the Irish?" he asked urgently. 

"Sitting down with Jimmy this afternoon," Clay informed him with a reassuring smile. "We're gonna find her, son."

Juice returned the smile, nodding his head, "Yeah, I know." 

The group began to make their way to their bikes, the sense of unity palpable. But as Juice turned to follow, his gaze caught sight of a familiar car pulling up.

"Hey, I'll catch up with you guys in a minute," Juice said, turning away from the group.

Chibs and Jax exchanged curious glances but said nothing, their suspicions evident. They nodded and started toward their bikes, leaving Juice to approach the car.

Rey stepped out of the vehicle, her demeanour calm but with a touch of weariness. Juice walked over, his concern immediately apparent, "Hey, how you doing?" he asked, his eyes searching her face for any sign of distress.

Rey offered a reassuring smile, "I'm good. Tara patched me up," she said, motioning to the bandage wrapped around her right arm. "It's just a flesh wound. Nothing to worry about." 

Juice's eyes softened, though the worry didn't fade, "You sure you're okay? It looked pretty deep." 

Rey's whole face softened as a smile graced her face, "I'm fine, really," she insisted. "How about you? You're the one that spent the night in jail." 

Juice's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of recent events pressing down on him, "Yeah, it wasn't the best choice I ever made," he chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just...everything's been a lot lately, you know? Trying to keep it together for Letty." 

Rey nodded sympathetically, "It's been a rough time for all of us." 

Juice looked at her with genuine gratitude in his eyes, "Thanks for checking in on me. It means a lot." 

"Of course," she said, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm here for you, always." 

As they talked, Chibs and Jax, having lingered behind, exchanged glances filled with curiosity. Chibs raised an eyebrow, motioning towards Juice and Rey, "What's going on there?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion. 

Jax shook his head slowly, a hint of concern in his eyes, "I don't know, but they've been looking pretty cosy lately. Either there's nothing going on or whenever we find Letty, we're gonna have a very dead crow eater on our hands." 

"Yeah, and a very dead son," Chibs added, shooting daggers with his eyes at the back of Juice's head, making Jax chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. 

"Let's get out of here, man," he said, motioning for Chibs to follow him. 

As Chibs and Jax mounted their bikes and drove off, Juice and Rey stood by her car, their conversation dwindling to a comfortable silence.

Juice finally broke it with a soft smile, "I should catch up with the guys. Thanks again." 

Rey nodded, her eyes reflecting understanding, "Take care of yourself, Ortiz." 

With one last look, Juice turned and walked back towards his bike, feeling a renewed sense of hope and determination. As he mounted his Harley and joined his brothers, the road ahead seemed a little less daunting, buoyed by the support of those who mattered most.

***

"Look away," Tig turned the creepy porcelain doll around in the large display cabinet inside Gemma's father's place. Chewing on the piece of bread that hung from his mouth, he briefly moved the curtains to the side and gaze out the window. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he quickly took a seat at the dining table, running his hands down his face, still on edge from the amount of dolls on display. 

Gemma moved further into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow, "Let me guess..." she started to say her hands on her hips as she made her way over to the cabinet. 

"They were freaking me out," Tig argued, reaching for his cup of coffee. 

"This one's my favourite," Gemma muttered, slowly sliding the glass door open and pulling out a porcelain doll with red hair out and placed it down on the table in front of Tig, making him gasp as he quickly placed his napkin over it. 

Gemma smirk in amusement, "You talk to Clay?" she asked, making her way around the breakfast bar. 

"Yeah, he knows we're here." 

"Was he pissed?" she asked, grabbing a mug and pouring herself a cup of coffee. 

"Gem, he had other things on his mind - Bad night," he informed her, his tone turning grave. 

"Shit," she cursed in realisation, sensing something bad. "What?" 

"Drive-by. Sack's wake."

"Jesus Christ," Gemma sighed, placing down the jug of coffee, her hands finding her hips once more. 

"We're whole, but Letty's friend, Rey, got shot. She's fine, but, uh, Hale..." Tig paused, swallowing hard, his usual bravado stripped away. "He was killed." 

For a moment, the world around Gemma seemed to freeze. Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of his words hit her like a freight train. She knew how much that man meant to Letty. Hell, Hale wasn't just some town cop to her girl. He was quiet possibly her first love. Even after all these years, after everything that had happened, he still held a place in Letty's heart.

Gemma's hand flew to her mouth as she stumbled back, leaning against the counter for support, "My God..." she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of the news.

Tig watched her, eyes softening with concern, "Yeah..." 

The air felt thick, suffocating, as Gemma tried to process everything, "I gotta go," she muttered, moving toward the door with a sudden, fierce urgency. "I have to see my baby girl." 

But Tig stepped in front of her, blocking her path, "Gemma, you can't. The Feds are crawling all over Charming. You step one foot in that town, and they'll have you in cuffs before you can say, 'How do you do?' 

"I don't give a damn!" Gemma snapped, her voice breaking with frustration and desperation. "She needs me! Half-sack was one thing, but Hale. I can't let her go through that alone." 

Tig grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to stop and meet his gaze, "I know, Gem. But you can't help her if you're locked up." 

Gemma's chest heaved with heavy breaths as she stared at Tig, her mind racing, "You don't get it, Tig. Letty loved him - she was in love with him." 

"I'm well aware of Letty and Hale's little rendezvous in L.A.," Tig shivered, his face contorting in disgust. "I can't get the image out of my head," he groaned, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the image from them. 

"What rendezvous in L.A.?" Gemma furrowed in her eyebrows in confusion, but waved a dismissive hand, shaking her head, "No, I'm talking about her little school girl crush on him." 

An amused smirk tugged at the corners of Tig's lips, his eyebrow shot up as he lounged back in his chair, intrigued, "Letty had a crush on Hale?" he asked, curiosity getting the best of him. He always thought it was the other way around.  

"Yes. Since she was sixteen. But it all changed when he took her to her senior prom..." 

Charming 

2005

Letty sat cross-legged on her bed, arms folded across her chest, glaring at the mirror across the room. Gemma stood in front of her, holding a beautiful black and silver prom dress. Gemma's expression was a mixture of exasperation and determination as she tried to coax her daughter into getting ready for the big night.

"What do you mean you're not going to your senior prom?" Gemma asked, her voice sharp but with an underlying softness.

"I mean, I'm not going," Letty muttered, avoiding her mother's eyes.

Gemma sighed, setting the dress down on the chair beside her, "Why?"

Letty groaned, running a hand through her dark hair, "Because I'm the only girl without a date in the entire school!"

Gemma raised an eyebrow, "I find that hard to believe. You're the prettiest girl in that school."

Letty let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head, "Looks got nothing to do with it."

Gemma frowned, sensing there was something deeper going on, "Then what is it?"

Letty hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "No one wants to take a murderer to their school prom, okay?"

The word 'murderer' hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Gemma's heart clenched at the pain in her daughter's voice. Her voice softened as she knelt in front of Letty, "Murderer? Letty, you're not a murderer."

Letty's eyes filled with unshed tears as she whispered, "I killed two people, Mum. What else does that make me?"

Gemma sighed deeply, wishing she could take away her daughter's guilt and the burden she carried. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Letty's knee, "Letty, what happened was self-defence. You were protecting your friend. You did what you had to do. And Charlotte, was an accident. You're not a murderer. You understand me?" 

Letty just looked down at her hands, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on her jeans. Her mother's reassuring words didn't seem to lift the heaviness in her chest, so Gemma decided to switch tactics, "Why don't you go with one of your girlfriends? You know, make it a friend date." 

Letty scoffed, rolling her eyes, "What friends? The only friend I have is serving a five year sentence in Chino."

Gemma frowned again, "Letty, you have friends."

Letty's voice was bitter as she replied, "Not anyone brave enough to get in a car with me."

Gemma was about to respond when Clay appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his usual commanding presence. He took in the scene, understanding immediately what was going on, "Then why don't I take you?" he offered, his voice gruff but gentle.

Letty looked up at him, her face a mix of disbelief and frustration, "Yeah, sure. Look at the big loser Letty Morrow who couldn't get a date to her senior prom, so she took her old man. That'll definitely win me prom queen."

Clay's face fell, clearly hurt by her words, "It was just a suggestion," he muttered.

Gemma, sensing the tension, quickly moved to her husband's side, wrapping her arms around his neck, "Awe, baby, I would've loved for you to be my prom date," she teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Clay smiled down at her, the hurt fading as he looked into her eyes, "Awe, thanks, my love."

As Clay and Gemma shared a soft kiss, Letty groaned in disgust, burying her face in a pillow, "I hate my life!" she mumbled, trying to block out the image of her parents being all lovey-dovey.

Gemma laughed softly, pulling away from Clay just enough to look at Letty, "You'll get through this, sweetheart. Prom is just one night. But I promise you, it's not the end of the world."

Letty peeked out from under the pillow, her eyes softening at the sight of her parents standing together. She may have been frustrated and hurting, but deep down, she knew she wasn't alone.

***

Letty lay sprawled on her bed, cosy in her pyjamas, with her face buried in her pillow. The dress Gemma had picked out for her hung untouched on the back of the chair. She had made up her mind - she wasn't going to prom, and nothing her mother said could change that. Suddenly, she heard Gemma's voice calling from downstairs.

"Letty! Can you come downstairs for a minute, please?!" Gemma called, her voice sounding unusually insistent.

Letty groaned loudly, "What?! Ma, I told you, I'm not going!" she grumbled under her breath as she dragged herself out of bed and trudged downstairs. She was in no mood for another pep talk, and whatever her mother wanted, she wasn't interested in hearing it. But as she reached the bottom step, she froze.

There, standing in the middle of the living room, was David Hale.

Letty's breath caught in her throat. David was dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, looking as handsome as ever. In one hand, he held a single red rose, and in the other, a small box with a corsage inside. 

For a moment, Letty couldn't speak. She just stood there, staring at him, her heart pounding in her chest. This couldn't be real. David Hale, the guy she had secretly had a crush on since she was sixteen, was standing in her living room, looking like he had just walked out of a movie.

David smiled softly, that familiar, easy-going grin that always made her melt. He stepped forward, offering her the rose, "Hey, Letty."

Letty blinked, still trying to process what was happening, "Davey...? What-What are you doing here?" she asked, swallowing hard, her mouth suddenly becoming very dry. 

David chuckled, handing her the rose, "Well, I heard you didn't have a date to prom. Thought I'd change that."

Letty felt her cheeks flush with warmth as she took the rose from him. She looked up into his blue eyes, feeling the weight of all the insecurity and doubt she had been carrying suddenly start to lift, "But...you didn't have to do this," she stammered, glancing down at the rose in disbelief.

David gently took her hand, slipping the corsage from the box and securing it around her wrist, "I wanted to. I couldn't let you miss out on your prom night." 

Letty looked up at him, her heart swelling with emotion. She had spent so much time feeling like she didn't belong, like she didn't deserve good things because of what she had done. But here was David, standing in front of her, treating her like a princess. 

"Davey...I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He smiled again, that warm, comforting smile that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay, "You don't have to say anything, Letty. Just...let me take you to prom."

Gemma stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a knowing smile. She had always liked David, always thought he was good for Letty, and seeing the look on her daughter's face now, she knew she had made the right call.

Letty's eyes flickered over to her mother, and she saw the slight smirk on Gemma's face. It was all coming together now - this had been her mum's doing. She had arranged this, probably the moment she realised Letty wasn't going. And now, as much as Letty wanted to protest, she couldn't find the words.

Instead, she smiled. A genuine, warm smile, the kind she hadn't displayed in a long time, "Okay," she finally said, her voice steadying. "Let's go to prom."

Letty had immediately rushed upstairs to get ready, while Gemma helped her with her hair and makeup. Somehow they managed to be ready within twenty minutes. And as soon as she rushed downstairs, trying to secure her silver heels on her feet at the same time, David held out his arm for her to take, and Letty instantly looped her arm through it, feeling a surge of excitement she hadn't expected. 

Gemma, right behind her, stepped forward, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Letty's face, "You look beautiful, sweetheart," she whispered, her eyes glistening with pride.

Letty gave her mum a grateful look, nodding as she and David turned toward the door. She could feel Gemma's eyes on her as they left the house, but for the first time in a long time, Letty felt like maybe she wasn't defined by her past. Maybe she could still have a future.

***

Letty never imagined her senior prom could turn out this way. When she first decided not to go, she thought she was making the right choice, but now, as she spun around the dance floor in David's arms, she couldn't remember why she ever wanted to skip it.

The music filled the air, and the soft lighting made everything glow. Letty looked up at David as they swayed to the rhythm of the song. His touch was gentle, his hands steady on her waist. He kept his gaze on her, smiling with that signature warmth of his that made her feel safe. She smiled back, her nerves from earlier melting away with every passing moment.

The night had been perfect. David had been the perfect gentleman from the start - helping her into his Jeep, opening doors for her, and making sure she felt comfortable. They had eaten, laughed, and danced together, and with each hour that passed, Letty realised she was having the time of her life.

As they took a break from dancing, sitting together at one of the beautifully decorated tables, David handed her a glass of water, "You good?" he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

Letty nodded, taking a sip and smiling, "Yeah, I'm good. Better than good, actually."

David's grin widened, "I'm glad. You deserve to be happy, Letty."

She blushed at his words, feeling the warmth of his gaze on her. There was something so easy about being with David. He didn't ask too many questions, didn't push her to talk about things she wasn't ready to share. He just...let her be.

When the final slow song of the night played, David pulled her back onto the dance floor, holding her close as they swayed in time with the music. Letty rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. In that moment, everything felt right. All the pain, all the doubts, they seemed so far away now. Here, in David's arms, she felt at peace.

As the night came to an end, David drove her home in his Jeep. The ride was quiet, but not in an awkward way - more in the way that two people who were comfortable with each other didn't need to fill the silence. The stars twinkled overhead, and the cool night air flowed through the open windows.

When they arrived at her house, David parked the Jeep and quickly hopped out, rushing around to her side to open the door for her. Letty smiled at his chivalry, stepping out onto the gravel driveway.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice full of gratitude.

David simply smiled, offering her his arm as they walked up to the front door. When they reached the porch, Letty turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest. She had seen enough movies to know what usually happened next - the big romantic kiss at the end of the night. And while she didn't want to assume anything, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation.

David looked at her with that same warm smile, and for a moment, Letty thought maybe, just maybe, he was going to kiss her. But instead, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, "Goodnight, Letty," he whispered, his voice tender and kind.

Letty's breath caught in her throat. No, this wasn't how the night was supposed to end. She couldn't let it. Not after everything. Before he could step away, she reached out, grabbing his arm, "Davey," she said, her voice firm but soft. "Wait."

He turned back to her, surprise flashing in his eyes as she yanked him closer. Without a second thought, Letty leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips against his, kissing him with a passion that had been building inside her all night. David froze for a moment, clearly taken aback, but then he responded, kissing her back just as fiercely.

The world seemed to disappear around them. It was just her and David, standing there on her porch, lost in the moment. When she finally pulled away, she saw the dazed look on his face, his eyes wide with surprise and something else - something deeper. A smile tugged at her lips as she took a step back.

"Goodnight, Officer," she said, her voice soft but filled with satisfaction.

And before he could say anything, Letty turned and slipped inside the house, leaving him stunned, standing on her front porch with a smile slowly spreading across his face - Letty Morrow was truly something else. 

Inside, Letty leaned against the door, her heart still racing from the kiss. She couldn't help but grin to herself. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She has just kissed David Hale, and nothing else in the world seemed to matter right now.

Outside, David stood for a moment longer, the soft glow of the porch light illuminating his still-stunned expression. He shook his head, a smile spreading across his face as he chuckled to himself, "Goodnight, Letty," he whispered to the empty porch, before finally making his way back to his Jeep, his mind replaying the kiss over and over again.

***

Gemma was sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in hand and as she looked up, Letty burst into the room, her eyes lighting up when she saw the expression on her daughter's face, "So?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "How was it?"

Letty couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face as she flopped down next to her mother, "Mum, it was...it was magical. Seriously, the best night ever!" 

Gemma chuckled, taking a sip of her wine, "I'm glad you had fun, sweetheart. Tell me everything." 

And so Letty did. She told her mum about the dancing, the laughing, the way David had made her feel like the most special girl in the room. She even told her about the kiss, and how it had made her heart skip a beat. Gemma listened with a smile on her face, her heart swelling with pride as she watched her daughter glow with happiness.

It had been a long time since Letty had been this happy, and Gemma knew that this was just the beginning. Letty deserved all the good things in life, and tonight had been a reminder that, no matter what she had been through, there were still beautiful moments waiting for her.

As Letty finished recounting the night, Gemma reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, "I'm glad you had a good time, baby. You deserve to be happy." 

Letty smiled, squeezing her mum's hand back, "Thanks, Mum. For everything."

Gemma nodded, her eyes glistening with emotion, "Always, sweetheart. Always."

Gemma hated that Tig was right. But that didn't make it any easier. The thought of Letty out there, hurting, without her, tore at her insides, "Letty's gonna be broken," she whispered, more to herself than to Tig. "Hale...he meant something to her once." 

"Yeah," Tig agreed quietly. "But she's tough, Gem. Like her ma," he said, sending her a knowing look. He didn't mean her birth mother, he meant the woman that raised her, the woman standing across from him, willing to risk everything just to be there for Letty when she needed her most. "She'll survive this," he said with a hidden meaning. 

Gemma nodded, though her heart clenched with doubt, "I'm not so sure this time." 

Letty had already been through enough to last her a lifetime. But losing Hale might be the final straw. And Gemma wouldn't be able to forgive herself for not being there. But for now, all she could do was stay hidden, wait for the storm to pass, and hope like hell that Letty could weather it without her.

***

The old, dimly lit bar in Charming had been long abandoned, its once lively atmosphere now a husk of cracked leather booths and dust-covered bottles. The air was thick with the smell of aged wood and forgotten memories, every creak of the floorboards echoing through the silence.

Jimmy O sat alone in a corner booth, nursing a glass of whiskey, his mind racing with thoughts that kept him on edge. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension that never seemed to leave his features.

His phone was pressed against his ear as he talked with Father Kellan on the other end of the line, "I'm telling you, Eddy set me up. Pulled me into the safe house so ATF could catch me with the guns. Clay can back me up. He was there." 

"Jesus," Kellan's gravelly voice came through the phone. 

"I find it hard to believe that Cammy wasn't privy to what his son was doing. She wants him to go away, quietly." 

"Well, that is a council decision," Kellan said, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief - he couldn't believe the entitlement.  

"We both know she is the council," Jimmy retorted, the amusement and smugness carried in his tone. "Her reputation alone keeps the men in line." 

"She's been away a long time, Jimmy. Things have changed," Kellan declared, his disdain for the woman evident in his tone. "The True IRA is not a one-woman army anymore."

Jimmy scoffed in amusement, "You and I both know they answers to her and that's never going to change." 

"If I have anything to do with it, they won't be for much longer," Kellan said sternly, determination mixed with disdain was laced in his voice. 

"We'll see about that, father," Jimmy said, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"What do we know about Clay's old lady killing Edmond?" Kellan's voice now carried a tone that suggested he was in no way amusement, and his patience was running very thin. 

"Meeting with Samcro this afternoon," he informed the man of God. "What about the girl?" 

"The girl is safe," Kellan said simply. 

"Good. I'll give you a bell after we talk with the Sons," Jimmy said, hanging up the phone and slamming it down on the table, his features hardening and shoulders tensed, his whole demeanour was on edge, as frustration and fury bubbled up inside him. 

And then, the sound of high heels clicking against the wooden floorboards echoed through the room. It wasn't long before Jimmy felt a set of delicate hands slid over his shoulders, fingers trailing down the front of his chest. He stiffened, a fleeting instinct to resist, but her touch was disarming, causing him to relax under her control.

She leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear. The scent of her perfume, something dark and intoxicating, filled his senses. Her voice, low and sultry, sent a shiver down his spine as she whispered, "Troubles, my love," her lips brushed against the shell of his ear as she spoke. 

"Our good priest," Jimmy's jaw tightened. "Getting a mite too Godly for his collar," he seethed with anger. 

At his words, her touch became more intimate - possessive. She moved with a grace and purpose that made it clear she was no stranger to power. Her hands tightened slightly on his chest, before sliding around to cradle his neck, pulling him back against her as if she owned him, "The time for mercy has long passed," she whispered into his ear, a purr leaving her lips as she playfully nibbled on his earlobe, making a growl leave the back of Jimmy's throat. "Kellan has played his part, but now..." Then came the kisses. Slow, deliberate, and calculated. She pressed her lips to the side of his neck, soft at first, but each kiss lingered longer than the last. Her mouth traced a path down his skin, the heat of her breath making his pulse quicken. There was a seductive intent in every movement, a game of control that only she knew the rules to. "...It's time for him to meet the God he's so devoutly serves," she murmured against his lips. "His faith won't save him from what's coming."

Jimmy closed his eyes for a moment, surrendering to the sensation, but his instincts - those that had kept him alive for so long - flickered back to life. His mind screamed to be cautious, to stay alert, but her presence overwhelmed him, her lips coaxing him into a haze of distraction.

The woman's kiss had become infamous, whispered about in dark corners by those who feared her. Her lips, always painted in a deep crimson, held a haunting allure. Those who had received her kiss spoke of an icy chill that lingered long after the warmth of her lips had faded, as if death itself had brushed against their skin. It was said that when she kissed you, it wasn't just a gesture of affection - it was a silent promise, a harbinger of doom. She had a cruel habit of kissing many of her victims just before she killed them, as if sealing their fate with her lips. Her kiss was the final touch before fate claimed its due, a subtle, seductive invitation to the afterlife that none could refuse.

Needing the feeling of control back, he pulled the woman onto his lap, a light squeal leaving her lips, but the look of seduction was still etched into her features as her arms wrapped themselves back around his neck as she positioned herself, so she was straddling his waist. 

"I couldn't agree more, love," Jimmy murmured against her lips as their faces were inches apart, before their lips collided once more into a fiery kiss, their tongues playing a dance of dominance. 

***

Jax walked through the halls of St. Thomas, the sterile smell of antiseptic hit his senses and the sound of the murmured voices of nurses and patients surrounded him. His gaze landed on Rey, who stood behind the nurse's station, clad in her scrubs, with a clipboard in hand. Her dark hair was pulled back, but a few strands were hung loosely, framing her face perfectly. She didn't see him at first, focused on whatever notes she was writing, but he approached her with that casual swagger of his, knocking lightly on the station's counter. 

"Hey, Rey, you seen Tara?" 

Rey glanced up, a shadow of hesitation in her eyes before she spoke, "Um...I thought she would've told you." 

Jax frowned in confusion, "Told me what?"

Rey shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable, "She pulled herself off rotation."

Jax's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, she pulled herself off rotation?" 

Rey sighed, lowering the clipboard, "Apparently, she asked for some personal time." 

"But the suspension was lifted, right?" he asked, his voice edged with concern.

Rey nodded, her expression softening, "Yeah, she's all good. But I think she wants to take a leave of absence." 

Jax blinked, the weight of her words settling in, "What?!" His voice rose slightly, drawing the attention of a passing nurse, but Rey just shook her head, trying to keep the conversation quiet.

"Yeah, I don't know the details, Jax. But it's a shame, 'cause she's a great doctor. I really don't want to see this impact her career. Besides...I think she really needs her work right now."

Jax let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck as his mind raced, "Yeah, she does," he muttered, his voice low, before his eyes flicked to the bandage on Rey's arm. "How's the shoulder?" he asked, motioning towards it.

Rey glanced at her arm as if she'd forgotten it was even there. She offered a small smile, shrugging lightly, "Fine. Just a graze. Nothing serious."

Jax arched an eyebrow, smirking, "You talk like you've been shot before."

Rey's smirk widened, a hint of mystery in her eyes, "Let's just say there's a lot you don't know about me, Jackson."

Jax chuckled, intrigued by the cryptic response. There was something about Rey that always kept him guessing, a sense that she was more than she let on, "Color me intrigued."

Rey tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye as she turned to walk away, "I'll see you around, sport," she teased as she disappeared down the hall, leaving Jax standing there, watching her go with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

***

Jax sat on his Harley, the motorcycle's engine humming softly beneath him. The sound of distant footsteps and the occasional honk of a car were the only interruptions in the otherwise still air.

His phone pressed against his ear, as he talked to his mother, taking a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl into the cool night air.

Gemma's voice crackled through the receiver, worn but strong, "It was heart disease. The family flaw. Guess it got pretty ugly." 

Jax exhaled slowly, the cigarette smoke mingling with his breath, "I'm sorry."

Gemma's voice carried a tinge of bitterness, "Yeah. Well, she's still pulling the strings. Even dead, Rose is a control freak."

Jax chuckled softly, a hint of irony in his tone, "Sounds familiar."

Gemma scoffed in offence and amusement, "I am not my mother, you little shithead."

 A faint smile tugged at the corner of Jax's lips, one that hadn't appeared since his sister was taken, "Okay."

Gemma's tone softened, laden with genuine gratitude, glad her son had called to check in, "Thank you, Jackson."

Jax adjusted his position on the bike, leaning his forearm on the handlebars, "I love you, Mum." 

A silence fell between them, filled only with the distant hum of the rest of the Sons' approaching bikes. Jax took another drag from his cigarette, the glow of the ember briefly illuminating his face. 

Gemma's voice broke the silence, tinged with a mix of sadness and concern, "How's Letty doing? I haven't heard from her." Her heart ached with hurt, her daughter was usually the first to call in situations like this.

Jax felt a pang of guilt. He knew exactly why Gemma hadn't heard from Letty. The weight of her absence, compounded by the recent chaos, was heavy on his shoulders. He sighed as he said, "Uh...not the best. Considering." 

Gemma's voice grew more sombre, "Yeah, Sack and now Hale--"

Jax cut her off gently, "She's definitely got murder on her mind."

Gemma's voice turned stern, with an edge of maternal authority, "You keep her straight, you hear me? We need one member of this family who's not a criminal or running from the law. She's got a chance at a better life - don't let her throw it all away." 

Jax nodded, even though she couldn't see him, "Yeah. I hear you, Mum. I'll do what I can. But Letty's strong, and she's got her own path to walk. I'll help her stay on track, but she's got to want it for herself too. You take care of yourself. I gotta go," he said quickly, noticing his brothers dismounting their bikes and walking with determined strides. 

Gemma's voice softened, "Okay, send Letty and Abel my love."

Jax's voice was steady as he replied, "I will."

He ended the call and tossed the cigarette butt onto the pavement, crushing it under the heel of his boot. The night air seemed heavier now, thick with the weight of unresolved issues and looming threats. Jax took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the abandoned pub. 

The challenges ahead were daunting, but Jax knew one thing for certain - he would fight like hell to keep his family together and get his sister back. 

***

The Sons of Anarchy gathered around a wooden table in the dimly lit, abandoned pub. The place reeked of stale beer, old leather, and the echoes of long-forgotten fights. The flickering neon sign outside barely worked, casting erratic flashes of blue and red light through the dirty windows. Dust clung to the rafters and the once-bustling bar was now a graveyard of broken stools and shattered glass.

Clay and Jax sat at the head of the table, their eyes fixed on Jimmy, who was lounging opposite them. The Irishman's smirk was a permanent fixture, a mask of his signature arrogance. His men stood behind him, their presence a silent warning. The tension in the room was thick, as though the walls themselves held their breath, waiting for the inevitable spark to ignite.

Chibs leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming restlessly against the tabletop. Opie, Happy and Bobby stood just behind him, arms crossed, their eyes scanning every shadowed corner of the room. Juice, quiet but alert, stood near the door, his hand resting on the butt of his pistol, ready for anything.

But what the Sons didn't know, what none of them could feel, was the cold, calculated gaze that followed their every move. Hidden in the shadows, eyes watching them closely, analysing - calculating. 

The feminine figure remained still, cloaked in the darkness, careful not to reveal their presence. They observed the way Clay and Jax both commanded the room, the way Chibs kept his eyes on Jimmy with pure hatred, and the way the rest of them stood ready to defend. Every move, every glance, every shift in posture was studied in silence.

"Wasn't my old lady killed Cameron's kid," Clay informed Jimmy. "It was ATF. Stahl. Shot him in the back. Gemma was there...to settled a score with Zobelle's daughter. Fed guys didn't want to take the heat for the dirty kill. Put it on my wife." 

"Why would my mum kill Edmond?" Jax said, raising an eyebrow that said, 'think about it'. "It doesn't make sense. That's the truth, Jimmy." 

"Jesus Christ," the man muttered under his breath. "Shit just gets deeper." 

"Cameron directed his vengeance at the wrong target," Jax continued, a hint of anger in his tone as his features hardened. "Now, he's got my sister." 

"Aye," Jimmy nodded, lowering his head, trying his best to show some level of sympathy. 

"And we know he's got a fake passport," Clay chimed in. "He's got to be back in Belfast--" 

"No," Jimmy immediately cut the president of Samcro off mid-thought. "My intel says he's still here."

"How do you know?" Juice questioned suspiciously, taking a step forward, earning a scolding look from both Clay and Jax, which made Chibs grip the younger son's shirt and push him back firmly. 

Jimmy raised an eyebrow at the interruption, tilting his head to the side as he replied smugly with the hint of irritation in his tone, "On account he can't make a move in the Six Counties without me hearing about it. He hasn't jumped off this rock yet. I'll be heading back home in a couple of days. Luke'll take point here. Any news about Cammy or your princess, I give you my word you'll be the first to know," he said, offering his hand for Clay to take, he did, giving it a shake as he made his way out of the booth, followed by Jax, who shook Jimmy's hand, although still very suspicious as he climbed out of the booth himself. 

The figure in the shadow's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. This was more than just a meeting - it was a delicate game of power and survival, and soon enough, the men in that room would find themselves playing a game they couldn't win.

With one final, lingering look at the group, the figure disappeared into the shadows, leaving only the faintest trace of their presence behind.

***

Samcro exited the abandoned bar, their heavy boots echoing on the cracked pavement. The cool afternoon air was thick with tension and cigarette smoke as they made their way towards their bikes. Engines idled softly, rumbling like a low growl beneath the silence that hung between them. Jax's mind was racing, but outwardly, he remained calm, focused.

Juice lagged behind slightly, a thought gnawing at the back of his mind. As they reached the line of bikes, he suddenly called out, "Hey, Bobby?" he called to his brother, who had been adjusting his leather gloves.

Bobby turned, eyebrow raised in question, "Yeah, what's up?"

"Your ex-wife," Juice began, stepping closer to Bobby. "She still with that Guido bounty hunter?"

A spark of realisation flashed in Jax's eyes as he glanced at Juice, "You thinking about putting him on Cameron?" 

Juice nodded, "Might be all we can do. Now, that Hale's dead, the cops aren't doing shit. We're not getting anywhere. A bounty hunter might be our best shot at finding Letty." 

Bobby let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his scruffy beard, "Well...I'm currently at an impasse with Precious." 

Jax's expression tightened with frustration, "How much of an impasse?"

"Six months' alimony, two months' child support," Bobby grumbled. The corners of his mouth twitched in irritation as he caught the looks Jax and Juice were sending his way. Finally, with a defeated shrug, he raised his hands, "All right, all right. Let's go visit the crazy redheaded rattlesnake." 

Juice smirked, nodding as he swung a leg over his bike, "Good. Maybe she'll play nice if we're lucky." 

Jax pulled on his helmet, his eyes narrowing with determination, "Let's hope so." 

Bobby grunted, settling onto his bike with a resigned sigh, "You know 'nice' isn't in Precious' vocabulary." 

"Then we'll have to make her see reason," Jax said, revving his engine. The roar of the Harley filled the empty street as the Sons prepared to ride out once more, this time with a new plan to track down Cameron Hayes. 

With a final glance at one another, they kicked their bikes into gear and sped off, the sound of their engines echoing down the deserted streets of Charming.

***

The air inside the brightly lit salon was thick with tension. Bobby stood just inside the door, his massive frame dwarfed by the rows of pastel-coloured hair products and the strong scent of hairspray. Facing him with hands firmly planted on her hips was Precious, his fierce ex-wife, glaring at him like he was the biggest mistake she had ever made.

"You got any idea how expensive Tiki's inhalers are, huh?" she snapped, her voice sharp. "The albuterol? Shit!" 

Bobby raised his hands in defence, trying to keep his voice calm, "Precious, I sent you a grand--"

Her eyes narrowed, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance, "Really? Did you really just say the check is in the mail? Really?!" 

"Yeah," Bobby replied, his tone firm but pleading. He wasn't in the mood for a fight, but Precious always had a way of pushing his buttons.

She scoffed, stepping closer with a look of disbelief on her face, "You think I'm as dumb as you are fat? Get out of my store! Get out!" Her voice rose with each word, as she began shoving him towards the door.

Bobby stumbled back, trying to keep his footing as Precious gave him a few strong pushes and even threw a couple of quick jabs to the face. 

"Don't make me hurt you! Out! Out!" she screamed, her hands now pounding against his chest, the frustration and anger she had harboured for years boiling over.

The door flew open as Jax ran in, catching sight of the chaos, "Precious! Precious!" he yelled, stepping between the two of them before she could land another punch on Bobby. "He's telling the truth, all right?! We need your man to help me find Letty. She's missing." 

The words hit Precious like a ton of bricks. Her fists froze mid-swing, and her face dropped, the anger draining away in an instant. She turned to Jax with wide eyes, the concern evident in her expression, "Letty's missing?" she asked, her voice softer now, a hint of worry creeping in.

"Yeah," Jax confirmed, his own voice laced with tension. The worry in his eyes mirrored hers.

Precious' face softened, and she let out a shaky breath, "She used to help me out a lot here at the salon. Babysat the kids whenever I needed. Even spared a few hundred bucks for your son's inhalers when I was short." She shot Bobby a quick glare, emphasizing the words, 'your son,' with a bitter edge.

Bobby swallowed, guilt creeping in as he glanced away, avoiding her gaze, "I never knew that," he muttered. 

"Yeah," Precious shot back with a sarcastic smile aimed at her ex-husband. "She's a good person." 

Jax nodded, his jaw clenched, "I know, and now she needs your help. Because we're running out of options." 

Precious looked at him for a long moment, her expression shifting from concern to determination, "All right," she finally said, nodding to herself. "I'll give Sergio a call." Without another word, she turned and walked towards the back of the salon, pulling out her phone to make the call that could possibly change everything.

Letty had always been the one constant in the world of the Sons, the glue that held together the fragile web of relationships and bonds among the club's women. While the men focused on their club business - outlaws on wheels, wrapped up in deals, vengeance, and brotherhood - Letty quietly took care of what often went unnoticed: their old ladies.

She'd show up at their houses unannounced, bringing over home-cooked meals when one of the guys were locked up or off on a run. When tensions ran high, and tempers flared, Letty was there to soothe, to listen. If there was trouble - whether it was bills piling up, kids needing babysitting, or just the crushing loneliness that came with being tied to a Son - Letty was there, stepping in where even the men themselves often failed.

It wasn't uncommon to find her with her sleeves rolled up, helping Gemma patch up the emotional wounds the club life inflicted. She was the one who would organise little get-togethers when the air felt too heavy, sensing when the old ladies needed an escape from the chaos, even for just a few hours. Despite the bruises and battles of her own life, Letty somehow always managed to put others first. When the rest of the world seemed to be falling apart, the old ladies could count on Letty to be the rock they desperately needed.

Even when the men were lost in their own turmoil, absent in one way or another, Letty never wavered. She knew the life, the sacrifices it demanded, but she never let the other women bear that burden alone. Her loyalty ran deep, and it extended beyond the Sons themselves, weaving a thread of support and strength among the women who stood beside them.

Jax watched Precious go, his heart pounding in his chest. When she disappeared into the back room, he let out a long breath, turning to Bobby, who was rubbing his sore jaw. 

"Thanks," Jax muttered, grateful that Precious hadn't turned him away.

Bobby just grunted, shaking his head, "She always did have a soft spot for Letty." 

"Yeah," Jax agreed, his eyes still on the room where Precious had vanished. "Let's hope that's enough to bring her home." 

***

"I hacked into as many local sources as possible," Juice informed the bounty hunter as the three Sons stood in front of the Salon, while Precious paced inside it, her anger still boiling inside her as she glared at her ex-husband. "You got access to commercial and federal databases. I need you to find this guy." 

"We got a bigger obstacle. She's pissed," Sergio said, motioning over to his wife. As the boys turned around, they all pulled a 'you got that right face', Jax and Juice clearly glad they weren't Bobby Munson. 

"Yes, she is," Bobby agreed, trying to shoot a smile his ex-wife's way, but only received a murderous glare in return. 

"I got a high-risk bounty today," Sergio continued. "Arty Brand, ex-military. I'm runnin' half speed," he said, motioning to his broke arm that was in a sling. "I was gonna hire a few guys..." he trailed off, sending the boys a look. 

"But if we do it, you'll help us?" Jax asked hopeful. 

Sergio looked down at the piece of paper that Juice had passed him, "I take half your day pay for running intel on Cameron Hayes, AKA Timothy O'Dell. The other half of the cash, throw to Precious and the kids," he said, looking over at Bobby, who nodded his head in agreement. 

"Deal," Jax declared.

***

Juice, Jax and Opie walked into the sex shop with determined strides. Noticing them come in, Sergio approached, "Arty's in the jerk booth in back - number four." 

"Okay," Jax nodded, before turning to his boys. "Hey, we'll take the skid up. Make sure his buddies stay out front," he instructed Opie. 

"Yeah," Opie nodded in understanding, glancing over to the men by the counter. 

"I need this guy whole," Sergio informed them. 

"Yeah," Jax replied, before moving toward the back and motioning for Juice to follow him and the bounty hunter.

While the boys headed out back to handle business, Opie tried to act nonchalant, going through a few items on the shelf, maybe he was even hoping to find a thing or two to help spice up bedroom life with Cleo, not like they needed any help in that department, after all his girlfriend was a professional, but it couldn't hurt, right? 

But as he turned his head, he spotted a pop up sign, and his eyes widened when he saw Cleo's face front and centre, bending over as Ima and Lyla spanked her with paddles. 

Walking over to the display, Opie reached for one of the many DVDs, his grip tight on the thin plastic case as he stared at his girlfriend's face. And not just that, her body, on full display, leaving nothing to the imagination, a body only he should be seeing - touching. 

He was so distracted by the sight of his girlfriend's nude body on the back of the case that he missed the two guys he was supposed to be watching sneak away into the back. 

***

In the dimly lit hallway, Jax, Juice and Sergio stood poised for action outside the old jerk booth. The air was thick with anticipation as Jax's hand rested firmly on his gun, Juice's eyes scanned for any sign of trouble, and Sergio's stance was ready for anything.

The door creaked open, and the three men sprang into action. Jax and Juice were quick, seizing the unsuspecting Arty and slamming him against the wall.

Jax's cold eyes locked onto Arty's, and his gun was pressed against the man's temple, "Sorry to step on your post-whack bliss, Arty," he snarled, his voice a harsh whisper. "But you got a bounty on your head."

Juice wasted no time, his hands deftly patting Arty down for any hidden weapons. His fingers moved swiftly, showing his expertise in the art of frisking someone under pressure.

"Hey!" One of Arty's friends shouted as they came barrelling around the corner, their guns drawn and ready. Without hesitation, one opened fire, the sound of the gunshots echoing through the hallway.

Jax's reflexes were sharp; he pulled Arty into his chest, using him as a human shield. His hand tightened around Arty's neck, the gun digging into the man's temple.

Seconds later, Opie appeared, barrelling through the chaos. With a swift, practiced motion, he shoved one of Arty's friends out of the way, pointing his gun at the other.

"Drop it!" Opie commanded, his voice unwavering. Without waiting for compliance, he knocked the man out cold with the butt of his gun, shoving the other to the ground. "Get down. I got 'em. Sorry," he called out to Jax, his gaze scanning the scene.

The momentary distraction was enough for Arty. With a surge of desperation, he wriggled free from Jax's grip and shoved past Juice, bolting towards the exit.

"Oh, shit," Jax muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and urgency.

Jax and Juice sprang into action, chasing after the retreating Arty who burst out into the street. Jax's gun was raised, and he fired a shot into the air, the deafening crack of the gun stopping Arty dead in his tracks. The street fell into a tense silence as Arty stood frozen, fear written across his face.

Sergio stepped forward, his hand reaching out to Jax, "No! Don't shoot him. It's over, Arty!"

Arty's smirk was fleeting as he turned and sprinted further into the street, his escape cut short when a car came barrelling around the corner. The vehicle struck him with a sickening thud, sending him flying off the hood before his body hit the pavement with a heavy, final thump.

Juice stood panting, staring at the wreckage, "Damn hybrids. Dangerous," he muttered, out of breath from the chase.

The screech of approaching sirens filled the air, and Sergio gestured to the Sons, "Get lost. I can handle it from here," he said, his tone firm as he began to assess the injured man.

Jax turned to Sergio, his face a mask of determination, "Hey, I want something on Cameron Hayes by the end of the day," he warned, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Juice gave a nod, a fierce resolve in his eyes, "Oh, don't worry. I'm gonna make sure that happens."

Jax smirked, "I don't doubt that," he said, giving Juice a pat on the shoulder, before he jogged off.

***

The door creaked open, revealing Maureen Ashby, a tray of food balanced carefully in her hands as she entered the dimly lit room, her eyes locking onto Letty, who sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze locked on the blacked out window, her wrists and ankles tied tightly together, the ropes digging into her skin. Despite her restraints, she radiated defiance, glaring at Maureen with fiery eyes.

Maureen set the tray on the bedside table, her movements careful, as though any sudden action might provoke the girl lying before her. She offered a small, almost apologetic smile, "I brought you something to eat," she said softly.

"I'm not interested," Letty croaked, her voice strained from all the crying she had been doing the past few days. Her tired eyes still fixated on the window. 

Maureen sighed quietly, her voice gentle, "You need to eat, love," she urged, her warm and kind nature shining through despite the situation.

Letty's eyes flicked to the tray and then back to Maureen, her expression hardening, "Do you have any idea who I am?" she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. Her gaze was sharp, cutting through the room's tense atmosphere like a blade. "Who my family is?"

Maureen met her gaze without flinching, her expression calm despite the venom in Letty's voice, "Oh, I know quite well who your family is, sweetie."

Letty's lips curled into a wicked smile, her eyes glinting with dark amusement, "Then you should know you're as good as dead."

Maureen inhaled deeply, her face softening with a strange mix of acceptance, "Yeah, I know."

For a moment, silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating. Maureen turned to leave, her hand resting on the doorknob.

But just as she began to open the door, Letty's voice cut through the quiet, "Who are you and Cameron so afraid of?"

The question froze Maureen in her tracks. She didn't turn around, but Letty could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her grip tightened on the doorknob.

Letty leaned forward as much as her restraints allowed, her voice low and dangerous, "Is it someone worse than my father? Because if you think Clay Morrow won't burn this city to the ground to find me, you're sadly mistaken."

Maureen slowly turned her head, just enough for Letty to catch the haunted look in her eyes, "Oh, I assure you she is much worse. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." Her voice was quiet, almost distant, as if she was speaking to herself as much as to Letty. "Eat," she added, her tone firm but not unkind. "You're gonna need your strength."

Without another word, Maureen stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

But the woman barely turned to enter the hallway when she was met by Father Kellan Ashby, his concerned eyes searching her face for any sign of progress, "How is she, sis?" he asked in a hushed tone, his voice carrying the weight of their shared burden.

Maureen shook her head, her brow furrowing with concern, "Stubborn one. Won't eat," she replied, her voice laced with both sympathy and frustration.

Kellan let out a low chuckle, "Like mother, like daughter."

"You can say that again," Maureen said, her lips curling into a faint smile despite the seriousness of their situation. She led him toward the kitchen, where she offered him a cup of coffee. Kellan settled at the dining table, the familiar creak of the wooden chair filling the room as he took a seat. Maureen handed him the steaming mug before sitting down beside him with her own.

"Have you had any unwanted visitors?" Kellan asked after a long sip of his coffee, his eyes sharp and vigilant, scanning the room for any sign of trouble.

Maureen shook her head again, "Seems she's still on holiday. Let's hope she overstays her welcome," she said with a hint of bitterness. "How's our cousin?"

Kellan's expression darkened, "I heard from Jimmy. He has proof that Eddy worked for the Feds."

Maureen's eyes widened, and she cursed under her breath, "Oh, shit," she muttered, placing her mug down on the table with a soft thud. She rubbed her temples, trying to process the new information.

Kellan sighed heavily, "Gets worse. It wasn't Gemma who killed the boy. It was the ATF."

Maureen's heart sank, and she clasped her hands together tightly, as if trying to hold on to something solid in the midst of the chaos, "Oh, Jesus, Kell, no," she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief and dread.

Kellan nodded grimly, "I've consulted with the council. If we leave it to Jimmy or the MC get a hold of Cammy, or worse...the lady of Belfast, it'll be brutal, Mo."

Maureen nodded in agreement, her eyes welling with unshed tears, "Yeah, I know. How does it land on the cause?"

Kellan's gaze turned distant, thoughtful, "We know what her desires would be...see Cammy erased. No trace that he or the lass were ever here. 

"Last thing she'd want is Samcro shooting up here, looking for their princess," Maureen caught onto what her brother was saying. 

Kellan nodded along, "Yes, that would complicate her and Jimmy's plans."

Maureen took a deep breath, "And what do you desire, Father Ashby?" she asked, her eyes searching his face for any hint of emotion.

Kellan's expression softened, but his resolve remained firm, "To give the Sacrament, to make sure our kin end up on the right side of God," he said quietly, his words carrying the weight of his conviction.

Maureen nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of what lay ahead. She took another sip of her coffee, the warmth of the drink doing little to ease the cold that had settled in her bones. They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their decisions pressing down on them like a heavy fog, knowing that the path they were on would leave no room for turning back.

***

Gemma sat on the worn wooden staircase inside her father's house, the late afternoon sun casting a warm light through the windows. She sighed, pressing her phone to her ear as she answered the incoming call. 

"Yeah?" Gemma's voice was laced with fatigue.

"Gemma, it's me," Tara's voice came through the line, calm but accompanied with an underlying tension.

Gemma frowned slightly, "Something wrong? Is it Letty?" she asked, her protective instincts kicking in. 

"No, everything's fine," Tara quickly assured her, though the weight of her words didn't fully convince Gemma. "Just calling to check on you."

Gemma's eyebrows furrowed deeply, "You on your cell?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of suspicion.

"Using one of Jax's prepays," Tara replied.

Gemma chuckled softly, a small smile tugging at her lips, "You're learning. My baby taught you well."

"Yeah, I guess," Tara responded, her voice quieter with a hint of sadness to it. 

Gemma's smile faded, replaced by concern, "You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, hearing the unease in Tara's voice that was impossible to hide.

There was a pause on the other end, and then Tara sighed, "I don't know. Guess I just needed to hear a friendly voice."

Gemma's tone softened at that, understanding the weight Tara must be carrying, "You and Letty have been through it, baby. What happened with the prospect...that's shit no one should have to see," she said, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "You two need to hold onto each other. Lean on each other. That's what's getting me through it. Jax, Letty, Abel...don't let go of them. Keep your strength."

Tara's voice came back even quieter, almost distant, "Yeah..."

Before she could continue, a sudden loud 'BANG!' echoed through the house, cutting through the conversation like a knife. Gemma shot up from the stairs, her eyes wide with alarm.

"What was that?!" Tara's panicked voice came through the phone, but Gemma was already moving.

"Shit! I'll call you back," she said hurriedly, not waiting for a response as she hung up the phone and rushed toward the source of the noise, her heart pounding in her chest as she braced herself. 

***

Hector Salazar screamed on the top of his lungs, buried deep into the hardened soil in the middle of the desert. Happy and Chibs kneeled down, tightening the chains that wrapped around his neck keeping him in place. The only thing you could see was the man's head peeping out of the earth. 

"Yo no sé nada! Yo no sé nada, no sé nada, cabrón," he begged and pleaded with the Sons to let him go, but failed miserably. "You're making a mistake," he said, struggling to breath as it felt like his lungs were about to collapse. "You're making a mista--Yo no sé nada!" 

The sound of the roaring engine of approaching Harleys cut out the sound of the man's pleas. 

"You talk to Juice?" Clay asked as Jax and Opie pulled up on their bikes. 

"Yeah," Jax nodded, his gaze travelling over to the man buried in the ground. "Waiting on Serg's intel." 

Clay chuckled, "Yeah, I'm sure he's ringing down his neck till he gets something on Letty." Light-hearted chuckles came from each one of the guys. 

Jax nodded, "Yeah. We miss anything?" 

"Just about to get started. You want first crack at the piñata?" Clay asked with a joyful, sinister smirk. 

"Jesus Christ..." Opie muttered, chuckling to himself as he shook his head in amusement, taking in the sight. "This looks like it could be straight out of Letty's twisted imagination. She'd definitely be proud of this one." Jax chuckled, nodding his head in agreement as they both rode their bikes, so they were perfectly in line with the human bobble head a few distance away. 

"What are you doing?" Bobby whispered to Clay judgementally. 

"What?" Clay asked, the smirk still plastered on his face. "I'm helping him through it. Ope's right, Letty would of loved this shit," he said, giving Bobby a light pat on the shoulder in a 'come on, enjoy the show' gesture. 

As Opie and Jax revived their engines, Hector started to panic, knowing what they were about to do, "Wait! ÿQue estan haciendo? ÿQue estan haciendo? What is this?! Please. Tell them no. No!" 

Happy raised a red hankie chief in the air and waved it once as Opie and Jax rode forward, full speed and straight for Hector.  

"No!" Hector screamed as the bikes rode inches away from his face. 

"Bravo, matador, bravo!" Chibs clapped his hands together, his rough laughter echoing as he watched Salazar's torment with a twisted sense of satisfaction. He was enjoying the show, his eyes gleaming with that dark amusement only the Sons could understand. As he clapped, he turned with a wide grin, ready to throw a joke Letty's way, maybe share a laugh like they always did. But the smile froze on his face, his heart sinking as he remembered - she wasn't there.

The grin faded, and a heavy silence filled his chest. Letty was gone, and the weight of her absence hit him hard. That familiar pang of loss crept in, tightening his gut. For a moment, his eyes flickered with pain before he turned back to the scene, the joy drained from his expression.

"Stop! Stop! No more! Stop," Hector called out, fearing for his life. 

The Sons made their way over, surrounding the man in the hole. 

"Why's Alvarez patching you over?!" Clay questioned, hands on hips, his voice demanding. 

"Hеrοin!" he immediately confessed. "The Mayans are setting up a bag-and-cut operation in Lodi. They're moving H to Stockton Prison. That's all I know."

Samcro moved away from the man, who was now in tears, gathering to discuss their next move, "This had to be the deal Alvarez cut with Zobelle," Clay realised. "Must still be on the table. Mayans supply the dоpе, A.B. gives them the prison market." 

"They're processing H in Lodi, means they're running it through Charming to get to Stockton," Jax said, leaning against the handlebars of his bike. 

"Got to take Alvarez down," Opie chimed in. 

"Shred him to pieces," Chibs added, his jaw tightening. "We get bloody." He really needed to kill something right now.

Clay thought about it for a moment, but shook his head, taking a few deep breaths as he started to pace, "We can't afford another war," he declared. "We just ended one almost finished us. We got assault charges pending. Gemma gone - Letty. We off this guy, it's an escalation," he said, motioning to the man behind him. 

Jax nodded in agreement, following his step-father's train of thought, "Be bloody '92 all over again," he said, letting out a deep sigh. "We spare this shithead, might give us a little room to negotiate." 

"Negotiate what?" Chibs said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as his arms folded against his chest. "Alvarez wants us dead."

"Well, then we'll just have to change his mind," Clay stated, sighing, his gaze travelling over each one of his guys' faces. "Do I need to take a vote?" But no one protested. "Let this pendejo out of the hole. He's going home."

"Hey, Hector," Chibs called out, making his way over. "It's your lucky day," he taunted, slapping the man's cheek lightly as he kneeled down to undo the chains around him. 

***

The door creaked open, and Maureen stepped into the room, her gaze falling on Letty, who lay on the bed, her wrists still tightly bound together, her expression cold and unreadable. The tray of food, untouched, sitting on the bedside table.

"You haven't touched your food," Maureen said softly, trying to sound gentle, though her nerves betrayed her.

Letty didn't respond immediately, simply met Maureen's eyes with a deadly glare as silence filled the room, thick with tension and unspoken words.

"You got trust issues, huh?"

Letty scoffed, amusement flickering across her face despite the dire circumstances, "Honey, you have me tied up in your daughter's bedroom." She let her gaze drift to the photos decorating the walls - snapshots of a girl, likely Maureen's daughter. "I'm all for the kinky stuff, but I draw the line at being held against my will."

Maureen sighed, the weight of her situation pressing down on her, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice - he's my family. I'm guessing you know a thing or two about that."

Letty's expression softened, just for a moment, a trace of understanding slipping through, "Maybe."

Maureen sat on the edge of the bed, trying to bridge the gap between them. She picked up the tray, holding it out as if that small act of kindness could make up for the ropes that kept Letty immobilised, "Please, will ya just eat something?"

Letty shifted away from her, not out of fear, but discomfort at the strange kindness from her captor. She eyed the tray but didn't reach for it, "Can you at least untie me, so I can eat properly?"

Maureen hesitated, glancing at the ropes that held Letty captive. She knew it was risky, but something about the girl - her calmness, her unflinching attitude - made her believe she wouldn't try anything. Not yet, at least. She nodded slowly, "Okay, just don't try anything."

Letty's lips curled into a smirk, "Cross my heart."

With a wary glance, Maureen untied the ropes binding Letty's wrists. The moment her hands were free, Letty rubbed her bruised wrists, the skin raw and tender from the rough restraints. She grabbed the ham sandwich from the tray, taking a large bite as if she hadn't eaten in days - because she hadn't.

"Do you think I can have some water?" Letty asked, her voice steady but with an edge of desperation she couldn't hide.

Maureen nodded, "Sure, sweetie," she said, standing up and leaving the room, heading to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen.

The moment Maureen was gone, Letty's eyes darted around the room, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze settled on a glass lamp sitting on the bedside table. She inhaled sharply, formulating a plan as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

Maureen re-entered the room, carrying a glass of water. She handed it to Letty, who took it with a forced smile, "Thank you, Maureen" Letty said, taking a small sip and offering the woman a small smile, earning one in return. But as she set the glass down on the table, she made her move. In one swift motion, she grabbed the lamp and swung it with all her strength.

The lamp shattered against Maureen's head with a sickening crash, sending shards of glass flying across the room. Maureen crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Letty didn't waste a second, "Stupid bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Her hands trembled as she grabbed a large shard of glass from the broken lamp. She quickly used it to cut through the remaining ropes around her ankles, freeing herself completely. Letty stood, her legs wobbling under her as the blood rushed back to her limbs. But she didn't have time to rest. She could hear Cameron's voice calling out for Maureen from the hallway.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved silently, positioning herself behind the door. The handle turned, and Cameron stepped inside, oblivious to the danger lurking in the shadows. Letty pounced, grabbing him from behind and pressing the shard of glass to his throat. 

"This is for Half-Sack," she whispered, her voice trembling with rage.

Before Cameron could react, Letty dragged the glass across his throat, cutting deep. His eyes widened in shock as blood gushed from the wound. He staggered forward, then collapsed to the floor, choking on his own blood.

Letty stood over his body, her breath coming in shallow gasps. But she wasn't done. Kneeling beside him, she carved a unique coded message she knew one person in particular would hopefully see and understand into his forehead with the bloodied shard, her hands shaking but her resolve steady. When she was satisfied, she stood and wiped the blood from her hands onto her jeans.

As she hurried toward the door, her heart racing with the urgency of escape, she was stopped in her tracks by a tall figure standing in the hallway, blocking her path. Letty's breath caught in her throat as she came face-to-face with Father Kellan Ashby.

"Oh, shit," she whispered, taking a step back. The piece of glass was still clutched in her hand, now slick with blood.

Kellan studied her, his expression calm but filled with quiet disappointment. He glanced at her bloodied appearance, then at the open door behind her, "Now, now, what have you done?" he asked, his voice low and sombre.

Letty tightened her grip on the shard, raising it in defence, "Not to be rude or anything, but who the hell are you?"

Kellan took a slow step forward, his gaze unwavering, "My name is Father Kellan," he said, his voice carrying a weight of authority that made Letty's stomach churn. He took another step toward her, forcing her to retreat.

"You're a priest?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"I am," Kellan replied, taking another step closer. "That's why it pains me to have to do this." 

Letty's eyes darted around, searching for an escape. Her heart raced in panic as she realised she was trapped, "Do what?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Kellan sighed, his expression filled with genuine regret, "I really am sorry about this, Letitia."

Before Letty could respond or question how the hell he even knew her name, she felt a sharp pain explode at the back of her head. The world spun around her, and everything went black as she crumpled to the floor - unconscious.

Kellan's men stepped out of the shadows, one of them holding the blunt object he had used to knock her out. Kellan knelt beside Letty for a moment, his face drawn with sadness, then stood and entered the room she had just left.

Inside, Cameron's lifeless body lay in a pool of his own blood. Kellan preformed the cross quickly, whispering a prayer under his breath, before he moved to Maureen, checking her pulse, and sighing in relief when he found it still strong. She was alive, just knocked out cold.

Kellan turned to his men, his expression hardening, "Drop him in Short Strand," he ordered, motioning to Cameron's body on the floor. "I want everyone to know...Cammy Hayes came home."

The men nodded, setting to work as Kellan stood over the bloody scene. The room, once filled with photographs of a carefree girl, now reeked of violence and death. He silently prayed for the souls of the fallen, knowing that the bloodshed was far from over, especially when the Angel of Death was concerned. 

***

Jax pushed open the doors to the chapel, his heart racing with a sickening combination of fear and anticipation. The tension in the room was thick, and the usual noise of banter and rough laughter had been replaced with a heavy, oppressive silence. His eyes swept over the table, landing on Juice, who was slumped in his chair, shoulders shaking, tears running down his face. In his hands, he clutched a crumpled piece of paper, his knuckles white from the grip.

The sight of Juice like this sent a jolt of dread through Jax's chest. His pulse quickened, and he felt a lump form in his throat. He couldn't shake the overwhelming sense that something terrible had happened to Letty. He couldn't lose her, not like this, not after everything.

"Juice," Jax said, his voice trembling with worry. "What? What did Serg find?"

Juice's head lifted slowly, his eyes red-rimmed and full of despair. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice, but when he spoke, it came out in a rough croak, "Three days ago...Amtrak station in Rocklin. Timothy O'Dell and an unknown woman bought a one-way ticket to Vancouver."

Juice handed Jax the photo he had been clutching. Jax took it with shaking hands, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the grainy image. It was Letty, being dragged along by Cameron Hayes at a train station. She looked scared, but she was alive.

"Letty," Jax breathed out in relief, his legs nearly buckling beneath him. He stared at the photo, tracing her face with his thumb, clinging to the proof that she was still out there, still within reach.

Chibs approached, placing a reassuring hand on both Jax and Juice's shoulders, "Letty's fine, Jackie boy," he said, his voice steady. "She's up north. We gonna find her."

Clay stood from his chair, his face set in stone, eyes cold and determined, "We're gonna find Cameron," he said with a voice that left no room for doubt. "And we're gonna bring our girl home."

The other Sons shared determined nods, their expressions a mirror of Clay's resolve. This was family. They wouldn't stop until Letty was safe, until she was back where she belonged.

Chibs squeezed Jax's shoulder one last time before stepping back, "Aye," he said, his voice soft but filled with the weight of his promise. "We'll get her back, brother."

Jax stared down at the photo in his hands, feeling a renewed sense of purpose surge through him. Letty was out there, and she needed him. And he wasn't going to let her down.

***

Letty lay on the bed, her wrists bound tightly to the wooden bedhead, the heavy chains biting into her skin whenever she moved. She barely noticed the pain, though. It was nothing compared to the ache that had settled deep inside her chest. 

But Letty couldn't bring herself to focus on any of it. Her mind was somewhere else, far away from the dim room where she was held captive. It drifted to Juice, her safe haven. She could picture his face so clearly - the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the sound of his laugh. She clung to those memories like a lifeline, the only thing keeping her from completely unravelling.

Charming 

2008

Letty sighed as the opening credits of the Notebook rolled across the screen. She was sprawled out on the couch, her feet resting comfortably on Juice's lap, "Seriously? This is what you wanted to watch?" she asked, a hint of mockery and disbelief in her voice.

Juice shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face, "It's a classic. Plus, you know, Rachel McAdams is in it." 

Letty rolled her eyes, Juice wasn't shy about over-sharing his obsessive crush he had on Rachel McAdams with Letty or anyone who would listen. And Juice seemed to have a soft spot for cheesy movies, and wasn't ashamed one bit. 

Letty couldn't believe she let Juice talk her into watching The Notebook. It was supposed to be a quiet night in, something low-key after a hectic week, and somehow this is what they ended up doing. She leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, trying to hide her irritation. Sappy romance movies were never her thing, but for Juice, she'd suffer through it.

As the movie played on, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the over-the-top drama and endless declarations of love, "It's so unrealistic," she muttered under her breath, though Juice didn't seem to hear her. His eyes were glued to the screen, completely absorbed in the story.

Letty stole a glance at him during one of the emotional scenes - Noah was reading to Allie, her memory slipping away, but he refused to let go. Her snarky comment died on her lips as she noticed something surprising: Juice's eyes were wet. His lower lip trembled ever so slightly, and a single tear slipped down his cheek. 

Letty's eyes widened in disbelief, "Are you... crying?" she asked, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. 

Juice sniffled, quickly wiping his face with the back of his hand, but the damage was done. Letty burst out laughing, her loud, teasing cackle filling the room, "Oh, my God, you're crying!" she teased, nudging him with her elbow. "I knew you were a softie, but this? Seriously?"

Juice shot her a mock glare, though the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, "Shut up," he muttered, trying to act tough, but Letty wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily.

"No, no, this is priceless," she continued, leaning forward as her laughter subsided into giggles. "My big bad biker boyfriend is crying over a Nicholas Sparks movie. I'm never letting you live this down."

Juice laughed through the tears, shaking his head, "Hey! It's emotional, all right? He never stopped loving her even when she forgot him and then...they-they died together." 

Letty chuckled, shaking her head in amusement as she returned her attention to the screen, but she couldn't help the warmth that spread in her chest at Juice's reaction. Despite her teasing, it was endearing to see this softer side of him.

***

As they settled into bed, Letty found herself comfortably nestled against Juice, her head resting on his chest. The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon shining through the window. She was on the verge of sleep when she felt Juice shift beside her.

"Letty," he murmured, his voice soft.

"Hmm?" she replied, her eyes still closed, content in the warmth of his embrace.

"Promise me something?" he asked, his tone a mix of seriousness and a playful hint that made her smile.

"Anything," she answered without hesitation, her voice sleepy but sincere.

Juice hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Will you be my Allie? And always find your way back to me?"

Letty's eyes snapped open as she burst out laughing, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. "Oh, my God, Juice. You really were crying, weren't you?"

Juice chuckled, a little embarrassed, but he didn't let it stop him, "I'm serious, Letty."

Still smiling, Letty shifted so she could look up at him, "All right, fine. But only if you promise to be my Noah and build me a big white house with a wraparound porch," she said, her smile turning into a wide grin. 

Juice's eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically, "Deal. I'll even throw in a lake with swans," he grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. 

They both laughed, the sound of their joy filling the room as they settled back into each other's arms. In that moment, everything felt right - no club drama, no danger, just them, wrapped up in each other and the love they shared. As they drifted off to sleep, they held on to that happiness, knowing that no matter what came their way, they'd always find their way back to each other.

The tray of food sat untouched, a reminder of her predicament. Not that it mattered. She couldn't eat it even if she wanted to, not with her hands now bound to the bedhead. Before, she'd had some semblance of freedom, just enough to push herself up and grab the food if she felt like it. But now, thanks to the Father, she was completely immobilised, trapped in her own helplessness.

She glanced at the food again - soup, a sandwich with one large bite taken out of it, her bite, a cup of water. Her stomach churned with hunger, but the thought of eating made her feel nauseous. What was the point? She felt so weak, so utterly defeated. All the fight she had early seemed to be fading away, leaving her hollow and numb. There was no motivation to struggle, no will to resist. All she could do was lie there and think of Juice, hoping, praying that he was out there somewhere, looking for her. That he hadn't given up.

Letty's eyelids felt heavy, the edges of her vision blurred as exhaustion and hunger played tricks on her mind. She stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the sharp ache in her wrists and the gnawing emptiness in her stomach. Her thoughts drifted, weaving in and out of memories, until she wasn't sure where reality ended and fantasy began.

Suddenly, the room seemed to shift. The dull light that filtered through the curtains grew warmer, softer. Letty blinked, her heart skipping a beat as she saw a familiar figure standing at the foot of the bed. Juice.

He looked just like she remembered - dark eyes full of warmth, his head shaved, tattoos peeking out from beneath his shirt. His lips curved into that boyish grin she loved so much. He stepped closer, and for a moment, Letty could almost believe he was real. That he had found her. That everything was going to be okay.

"Juice..." she whispered, her voice hoarse and weak. She tried to sit up, but the ropes held her in place. "You found me."

He didn't say anything at first, just smiled down at her. Then he knelt beside the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. His touch was so gentle, so familiar, it made her chest tighten with longing.

"I'm here, baby," he finally said, his voice soft and soothing. "I told you I'd always find my way back to you."

Tears welled up in Letty's eyes, and she blinked them away, afraid that if she closed her eyes, he would disappear, "I knew you would," she whispered. "I knew you wouldn't leave me."

Juice leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, the comforting presence of him grounding her. It felt so real. She wanted to stay in this moment forever, to never let go.

"You're stronger than you think, Letty," he murmured, his voice like a balm to her frayed nerves. "You're going to get through this, baby. But you need to fight. Promise me you'll fight."

She nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "But I'm so tired, Juice," she croaked, her throat tight with emotion and fatigue. "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Juice cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had started to fall, "You don't have to do it alone," he said. "I'm always with you, remember?"

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes as she let his presence wash over her. But when she opened her eyes, he was gone. The warmth in the room had faded, leaving behind the cold, harsh reality. She was still bound to the bed, still trapped in this nightmare. Juice wasn't really there. He was just a figment of her desperate mind, a cruel hallucination born out of her need for him.

Letty let out a shaky breath, the tears falling freely now. She knew he wasn't real, but for those few precious moments, she had felt safe again. And that, more than anything, broke her heart.

She exhaled a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. She couldn't afford to break down. Not yet. Not until she was back in Juice's arms, where she belonged.

***

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