The Past Haunts

By Dove

Playlist

Elastic Heart: Sia

Ur a Fever: The Kills

A/n: Ever wonder what happened when Mary took Opie away when he was sixteen? Let me give you a hint, a hell of a lot. *winks. This is my first foray into the world, so let's see if I can do it justice. I decided I wanted to do this in first person. It wasn't flowing the way I wanted, so I revamped.

When you truly love someone, you only want what's best for them. Even if that something doesn't include you. Even if it costs you everything. I guess that's where we both went wrong. ~Jillian Stewart

Chapter one

I unbind my hair from its high ponytail and sigh in relief. It feels good to relax. I massage my scalp, hoping this will help obliterate the headache building in my frontal lobe. I just pulled a double at the bar, and all I can think about is my Tempurpedic bed and lavender-scented sheets. Jesus, you know you have no life when sleep gives you a lady hard on.I sweep my gaze over the area looking for signs of Leo. Please, Lord, do not let tonight be one of those times he forgets how crazy his mother truly is, and I have to track him down.No child is a saint, but he's been hell on wheels since he hit sixteen. Best I can figure, the cause is a combination of testosterone and genes. Maybe if he had a decent male role model, things would be different. The continuous war in my head rages on as I mentally berate myself. Guilt sits on my chest like an anvil, slowly suffocating me a little more every day.

I pause in the kitchen, grab the counter, and close my eyes. Momentarily, the pressure of the weight on my shoulders threatens to fell me. I taught him everything I possibly could. He's more than book smart. He's street smart, looks at the big picture, and as far as teens go, he's pretty damn responsible. I've done my best, but no amount of wishful thinking is going to enable me to show him how to be a man. Meeting up with Piney and keeping in constant contact helps, but it's not enough to replace a father figure. Fuck this; he made his choice, and I made mine accordingly.

The show of weakness pisses me off. I let the emotion become my fuel, and push away from the counter. I have no time for this. I need to get to bed so I can drag my ass out of bed and spend some quality time with my kid. It's not every day I get an entire weekend off. I plan on making the most of it. My feet throb, and my lower back screams bloody murder as I pad down the hallway. I'm exhausted, but rest isn't in my future yet. I inhale, hold the breath in my lungs, and exhale slowly. I made my bed, and I've been lying in it for years.

Two more years, and I come clean and let Leo decide what his next move will be. This pity party won't get me anywhere. I can't afford to get lost in a depression. It's a slippery slope. If I let it go too far I start digging a hole I can't get easily get out of. I slow as I come up to Leo's room. The door is cracked. I push it open and spot a few of his auburn curls peeking out from his black comforter. That's my boy.I creep back out the way I came, soundlessly. Pride swells in my chest. He told me he'd be back in by midnight, and he kept with our agreement. We were on a rocky road this year. I understand he's a teenage boy trying to decide what type of man he'd like to be, but I expect him to return the respect I dole out, and realize his Mother is Jillian Stewart, and she don't play.

I purposely built our relationship on trust, respect, loyalty, and honesty Maybe it was a subconscious grooming for the heritage I know will eventually catch up with him. I pray when it reaches him, he won't be swallowed whole because his roots will be buried too deep. I enter my room and shed my clothes, feeling like I'm escaping a prison. The black pencil skirt and corset get up are good for tips, but not comfort. I ditch the fuck me pumps the minute I hit the door. I'm lucky I get to cover so much. Not all strip clubs are this cool. I pitch the articles of clothing into my hamper and walk into my bathroom eager to rinse off the smell of lust, desperation, and alcohol.

I'd kill for a bath, but I don't have enough energy. Cranking the dial toward hot, I place my hair up in a loose bun and step into the stall. Grabbing my homemade soap, I inhale the scent of roses and lather my washcloth. I splurge on my bath supplies. They little luxury gives me self-care on the go and reminds me that I'm a woman and not a machine. I've given up many things to care for Leo.

I never imagined I'd end up like this, old before my time. I'm only thirty-three, but I feel about fifty most days. I wash away the grime off the day, let the water soothe away my tension and hop out. Towel drying off, I walk to my dresser, and reach into the back of my top drawer. I need happiness and memories of a better time. The white t-shirt is threadbare. The faded Support your local Sons of Anarchy is faded so badly you can barely read it. It lost his scent years ago, but I can still remember it distinctively. I slip the shirt over my head and slip beneath my wildflower covered comforter and crisp white linen sheets. My bedroom is my sanctuary. The scent of lavender rises from my pillow and wraps its arms around me, a welcome lover. The only one I've had consistently in I can't remember how long.

I think of the time when I was young free and fearless, and allow the darkness to take me.

A persistent buzz tugs the blanket of sleep from me. Bee?I pry open my heavy lids and realize it's my cell phone. Who in the fuck?I reach out and pat the dresser capturing the annoyance, I pull into my warm nest of bedding and place it to my ear.

"Hello," I rasp.

"Opie's in a bad way. I think it's time you reveal your secret."

"What? Piney?" I rub my eyes as I try to wake

"Wake up, girl. Op's about to go off the deep end." He grouches.

"Piney." I sigh. I know shit with him and Donna has been less than perfect. How could it not be after he spent five years away? Not that she ever had a real love for Samcro. "That's why he has Donna," I say patiently. He can be mule-headed when he gets his mind on something. "If he won't listen to her, there's nothing I could say to make him stop."

"Donna's gone," Piney says. His voice shakes. I'm stunned by the emotions bleeding over the phone.

"So tell her to come back from wherever she went early. You know her, she tantrums, cools down and comes back. It's how she deals with shit. Not perfect, but who is?" I growl, angry that I'm losing out on my sleep to play marriage counselor.

"She's Dead, Jill."

The words are a slap in the face. I sit up in bed, instantly alert. "When?"

"A couple weeks ago," Piney says. He's somber and saddened.

"How?" Nothing is ever simple with them, and she was too young for it to be natural.

"Drive-by."

"Jesus Christ, Piney. You didn't think to tell me this shit before now?"

"I know I know. Shit's been insane. You know how it is. Bottom line, my boy ain't dealing with it well. He's shutting everyone out, including the kids. He needs a wake-up call. You never took his shit, Jill."

"It's been years, Piney," I whisper. There's no telling how the man will react to seeing me again. Add the secret I've been keeping, and it's a recipe for a cluster fuck that would only make the situation worse.

"Don't matter. I know you're the one for this job. Pack your shit and get your ass out here. I kept your secret, helped you out when you needed it, now it's time you return the favor."

I massage my temple. The old bastard is right. I owe him. He did me a solid and had my back. I can do nothing other than be there for him.

"Okay, just— keep him in one place. Once he hits the road, we'll never find him until he wants to be found."

"Good girl. Call me when you get into town," Piney says.

"Will do."

"You think." Piney pauses. "You think Leo's ready for this?" he asks.

"He's been ready his entire life. I'm the villain in our story, Pop. I took it on me. I didn't want him hating Opie when the call was all mine," I say honestly.

"You're too hard on yourself girl," Piney scolds.

I love the grizzly old man. He's been my pseudo father since mine wrote me off and tossed me to the wayside. Good, Christian girls didn't get knocked up and become single mothers and they sure as hell didn't do it with some trashy white boy.They hated Opie from the minute they met him and swore up and down he would cause me nothing but a heart attack.

The pregnancy only gave them the chance to say I told you so. When they offered to help me only if I gave the baby up for adoption, followed their rules and enrolled in college for a major of their choice, I balked. We hadn't talked since. Navigating life as a single mother wasn't a cake walk, by any means. But it was life on my own terms. From the minute I found out about Leo I loved him with a single-minded fierceness that allowed me to do whatever it took to care for him.

I went to Piney, knowing Mary wouldn't be a help. She had no love for her son after he returned to Charming. Piney called in favors, got me a steady job, a place to stay, and made sure I had someone close by to call if I ever needed help. If it wasn't for him, I would've given birth to my boy alone. I laugh thinking of the mountain of a man holding my hand and feeding me ice chips. That shit bonded us for life. There isn't much I wouldn't do for hi.

"I'll pack light and get us on the road," I promise.

"See you soon, Jilly."

He hung up, and I know my past has finally caught up with me.

2000

I clutch the notebooks to my chest as I walk down the hallway. High school wasn't always kind to the studious, non-popular girls who didn't fit the standard of beauty. I never cared much about popularity, but I'd had my niche of friends back in my hometown. We relocated over the summer, and I'm starting over in my junior year. I hate my parents for that. I shift the notebooks as I fiddle with the sheet of paper that holds the school's layout. A wall appears and I crash into it. My things hit the ground, and I feel myself following. A vice like grip locks onto my arms. I'm pulled up.

"Whoa. You okay, girl?" A gruff voice asks.

I glance up, dazed, and fall into a pool of kind hazel-colored eyes.

"I –uh, yeah. I'm so sorry, this is my first day, and I was trying to find my way around," I say apologizing to the boy looming over me.

"Oh yeah? Mine too. We can be lost together. I'm Opie."

He's massive, but there's something about him that sets me at ease. A gentle giant.

"Hi, Opie. I'm Jillian, but everyone calls me Jill."

"Ahh, you got the nickname thing going too. My real name's Harry, but it never gets used unless I'm in deep shit."

I snicker. "Same."

"Let me help you. I thought the school would be shit here. Suddenly things aren't looking too bad."

My face heats up, and I focus on picking up the scattered things.

It was the start of a strong friendship that would quickly turn to more.