Hey, Daddy! 

This is a story about a young woman who, is trying to track down her father, a man she has never met.  He doesn’t know that she even exists, but she feels he has to be better than her mother was.  Imagine Christina Hendricks with dark red hair.  This is a Jax/OC story.  I do not own or have any claim to SOA.  

I have been driving for days.  Trying to find my father, who doesn’t even know I exist.  Hoping that he’s a better person than that of my mother. The woman who has never really cared about me, who let her husband, my step father abuse me.  Not that I actually need a father, I just need to know who he is.  I guess I should introduce myself, my name is Hollis Ray Walker.  I am 23 years old, from Columbus, Ohio.  My mother was born in Oregon, but moved away not long after she found out she was pregnant with me.  How she ended up in Ohio, I don’t know, but I can tell you living with her was hell at its finest and I have no plans to ever go back.  My grandparents died when I was ten and I barely even knew them.  That was what my mother wanted.

“Finally,” I sigh, as I see the welcome sign for Charming, California.  Now, I just need to find Teller-Morrow Auto.  I’m beyond nervous, but I know this is my father, I have evidence that he is, after stealing it from my mother.  Why she kept any of this, I have no idea, but I’m thankful she did.  I’ve had it for years, since I left really, but never had the guts to come find him until now.  

It doesn’t take me long to find Teller-Morrow Auto Repair, thankfully.  I pull into the lot and park.  I see several men look at my car with wide eyes.  I have a 1967 Chevy Impala hard-top, just like the one in Supernatural.  Only, this has been my dream car since I was little and first saw one.   The men watch as I step out of the car and I’m certain their eyes widen even more and their jaws drop.  Guess they aren’t used to seeing a woman drive a car like this.  Funny thing is, I do all of the repairs on my baby and rarely ever let anyone else work on her.  One of the guys comes walking up to me, blonde hair, blue eyes and pretty, but with a rough edge.  

“What can I do for you, darlin’,” he asks.

“I’m not here for anything to do with the car.  I’m looking for Alexander Trager,” I say softly, my nerves taking over.  

“Now, why are you looking for him,” he questions with a raised brow.

“Kind of a personal thing.  Although, I’m more than certain it’s not for the reason you think.  Is he here or not,” wanting to get this over with.

“Yeah, hold on, I’ll go get him for you.  You got a name,” he asks before walking away.

“Hollis, although, he doesn’t know who I am,” I tell him.

I watch as he walks away, toward a slender man, black curly hair.  I can see it didn’t get much from him, if he is my father.  I’m 5’7″, my hair is a light brown naturally, but dyed dark red.  I have pale skin, wide hips, a somewhat bubble butt, large breasts and blue eyes.  I’m a curvy woman and I take pride in myself.  For years as a child and later, a teen, I was shy and ashamed of my body.  Mainly, due to my step father, who sexually and physically abused me, all while telling me how ugly and fat I was.  I overcame that feeling a few years ago and now, I take pride in my body and who I am.  I see the slender man walking toward me with a look of confusion.

“So, how can I help you,” he asks as he reaches me.

“Uh, is there anywhere we can talk in private?  This is something I don’t really want to talk about in the open.  I’m not here to hurt you, it’s just very personal,” I explain, hoping that he says yes.

“Sure, follow me,” he shrugs.

I follow him to the office of the shop and watch as he closes the doors for privacy.  He turns to me, watching me as I sit in one of the chairs and start to pull things out of my bag.  It’s all of the evidence that I have to prove he is my father, at least I hope it does. 

“So, what’s up, doll,” he asks.

“First, can you look at this picture and tell me if it’s you,” I ask as I hand him the picture of who I think is him with my mother.

He looks at it and raises a brow in curiosity, “Yeah, that’s me.  My question is, how did you get it?”

“That’s the only picture that I could find with my mother and the man that she told me was my father.  I don’t know if you actually are my father, but from what I was able to steal from the bitch, it all points to you.  That’s why I’m here,” I explain quickly, knowing that it all sounds insane.

“She told you that I’m your dad,” he questions.  I can see the wheels in his head turning.

“She didn’t really tell me much, mainly, because she kind of hates me.  See, she got married when I was three and well, apparently I was a strain on her marriage in the beginning.  Until, she decided that she didn’t care what happened to me and let her husband abuse me.  I just want to know if you’re my father or not.  I’m not here to disrupt your life, I just need to know,” I say softly, feeling a little panicked.

“What do you mean, until she didn’t care what happened and let her husband abuse you,” he asks softly.  I can tell that he’s afraid of the answer.

“Uh, yeah, he beat and raped me from age five until I was seventeen,” I explained.  

“And she knew this was going on,” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Yep, she hated me.  I ruined her life and all that.  Anyway, is there any possibility that you are my father or not,” I ask.  I have to know.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 23, the only reason I’m here is to know.  I have to know who my father is.  I lived in hell when I was growing up and I have to know that I have a father,” I explain, hoping he can tell me.

“Jesus fucking Christ! So, you were born in ’85,” he asks softly.  I just nod in reply.  “Yeah, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that I’m your dad,” he sighs.  “I’m not exactly a great role model though.”

“I don’t need a role model.  I know who I am, I just need to know who my father is.  That’s it,” I tell him honestly.

“Your mom and I, we were only together for a few months before she ran off.  I wasn’t exactly upset, because the woman’s fucking nuts, but Jesus! She could have told me she was fucking pregnant.  Not gonna lie, I’m not exactly a good guy, but I would’ve at least made sure none of that shit you went through wouldn’t have happened,” he exclaims.

“We can do a paternity test.  I have one that’s a mail in, it’s anonymous except for my name.  That’s if, that’s what you want to do,” not wanting to dwell on my past and my childhood.

He pauses for a moment, thinking if that’s something he wants to do before replying.  

“Yeah, we can do that,” he nods.  “We can do it now, if you have the kit with you.”

“Right here actually, I figured it couldn’t hurt to bring it with me,” I say pulling the test kit out of my bag.  

“Let me get one of the guys to come do the swab, if that’s alright with you,” he asks. 

I just nod and he heads out of the side door to what I’m guessing leads into the shop.  I sit there in the office alone and think about everything.  I might actually know who my father is, in just a matter of a week.  I’m nervous and excited and honestly, a little frightened.  I noticed that he had on a kutte with SAMCRO on it and a Sergeant of Arms patch.  I know that it’s a MC and he’s probably done many illegal things over the years.  But, I honestly can’t bring myself to care right now.  It’s obvious that he didn’t like what I told him about my childhood and that he’s pissed that I went through that, even though there is a possibility that I’m not his daughter.  The door opens again and in come Alexander and the blonde from before.

“So, what is it you want me to do,” the blonde asks.

“There’s a possibility that she’s my daughter and we need to do a paternity test to see if I am or not.  I just need you to swab our cheeks,” he explains.

“So, you might be a dad after all, Tig,” blondie chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah, can you do it or not,” ‘Tig’ asks.

“Sure,” he shrugs.

“I can do my own,” I say handing blondie one of the swabs.  They both look at me in question.  “I’m a nurse, so I’ve done this before.” 

“Alright,” blondie shrugs.  “I’m Jax, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” I nod as I open my swab.  I swab myself and place it in the container as Jax swabs Tig.  He hands it to me and I put it in the container then label it.  I seal the envelope so that I can mail it out later.

“How long will this take,” Tig asks.

“About a week, I’m going to overnight it to them and I paid extra to have it done immediately,” I explain.  ” I just need an address to send the results to, since I don’t live here.  I’m planning on staying in town at least until we get the results.”

“You got a place to stay while you’re in town,” Tig asks. 

“I’m just going to get a room at a hotel.  I have the money for it, so no worries,” I shrug.

“Why don’t you just stay here at the clubhouse, until we get the results from the test,” Tig offers.

“Huh, why?”  

“The clubhouse is going to be cleaner than the hotel or motel, more accurately, that you’ll be staying in, plus you won’t have to spend your money,” he explains.  “That, plus you and I can get to know one another.”

“I don’t want to barge into your life.  I just… I just wanted to know who my father was,” I explain, feeling a little on the spot.

“Stay, seriously.  You can take my room and that way no one will mess with you,” Jax says with a smile.

“Alright, I’ll stay, but if I see shit I don’t want to see, I’m out,” I say.  “Mainly, I don’t wanna see your shit,” I say pointedly to Tig.

“Deal, I’ll keep it away from you,” he nods at me with a small smile. 

I smile back at him and feel like this could be a really good relationship.  Well, as long as, he doesn’t fuck it up. 

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