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Daughters of Anarchy	By : vivalaresistance Category: S through Z > Sons of Anarchy Views: 7488 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own sons of anarchy or the characters. I do not make money off this website.

Chapter List
- 1-Daughters of Anarchy
- 2-A relapse of rebelion
- 1
- 2
It was a calm Tuesday, and by calm I merely mean there hadn't been a gun fight, brawl, or gang retaliation of any kind yet. Again, the club was having problems with their Mayan rivals, but that was nothing new. The Mayans had threatened a retaliation for one of their drug dealers' death, claiming the club had no right to shoot him, but Clay scoffed and mocked them, knowing they hadn't sold them guns or ammo in quite a long time, and doubting they'd risk it. SAMCRO argued that he was on their territory, and they had enough evidence to convince the majority of the group that he was dealing in Charming. The day was spent fixing cars and heated discussions about ethics and club business. Business that naturally, was none of Ginger's although her eavesdropping ears were convinced otherwise.
The little biker princess came home from school and swim practice, hair wrapped in a towel, and plopped down on the couch in the club's living area and brought out her homework. She was fifteen minutes into her math, when the day was called to an end and the club members streamed in, sweaty and gross, slapping each other on the back and spitting. Ginger smiled. These repugnant, tattooed, outlaw, GED-holding men were her favorite people on the damn globe. Soon enough, the girls appeared, wearing skimpy shorts and bikini tops. They threw themselves all over the bikers, smothering them in perfumed sticky kisses. Tig and Bobby put in a Metallica album and blared it so loud the speakers vibrated the floor.
Ginger put aside her books and partied with them instead. The room was way too noisy anyways. She sat up at the bar and struck up a conversation with a blonde-haired girl who was obviously hanging out at a biker's clubhouse for the first time, probably dragged along by a friend. She looked relieved that a little girl was at ease here, knowing that if this tiny imp was comfortable around these men, they weren't as scary as they looked. Ginger made friends with the girl, then pointed out her brother, playing pool across the room.
"That's Jax, my brother." Ginger said proudly, puffing up like a rooster. The girl was very interested and asked many questions.
"He kinda looks like Brad PItt, as a biker." the girl said, an erotic hint to her voice. Yes, Ginger thought, she was reeling her in.
"Don't tell 'I'm that though, he might shoot ya." Ginger joked. The girl looked genuinely concerned.
"I was kidding. Jax aint never hurt a woman b'fore." Ginger told her. She smiled.
"Imma call him over, you'd like him." Ginger said, closing in the deal. The girl laughed shyly.
"Oh no that's-" she began.
"YO JAXIE!" Ginger hollered. Jax looked up, and Ginger blinked thrice, their signal for "This one's a single-pringle and ready to mingle."
Jax grinned and sauntered over, leaving his pool game unfinished. The girl looked down and toyed with her hair.
"I'm sorry ma'am, is this one bothering you?" Jax asked jokingly. She laughed and shook her head.
"Your sister is adorable." she said. Jax smiled.
"Yeah well you don't live with her." Jax chuckled.
"Hey, kid," Jax said, turning to her, "Aint you s'posed to be doin homework anyway?"
Ginger gave him a look of utter disbelief. Betrayal.
"Yeah I guess." she grumbled, and hopped off the bar stool, slunking back to the couch where someone had spilled beer and peanut shells on her book bag. Jax shot her a grateful look and mouthed "Thank you." She glared at him.
"I can't do this in fronta the kid!" a girl hissed. Ginger looked up from her work to see Tig's nose in a pair of tits and his hand firmly on the girl's ass. He rolled his eyes.
"Git!" he grunted, pointing.
"I got just as much a right ta be here as-" Ginger started, steaming.
"I said git! You aint got a right less I say you do, now get outta here before I light yer ass on fire!" he barked, still pointing. Ginger huffed and gathered her things. She stomped back to her room and pushed open the door to a scene that would traumatize any other kid.
"Ahhh ahh aha ah ah ah ah ah." the girl from the bar earlier moaned. Jax pounded her from the behind, eyes rolling back in his head and grabbing her hips.
"Aw shit!" Ginger said, covering her eyes.
"FUCKING HELL CAN'T YOU KNOCK?!" Jax shouted at her, pulling his dick out of the screaming girl and covering them both with a blanket.
"Knock on my own room?!" Ginger retorted.
"This aint your own room! Scram, I'm busy!" Jax yelled at her, pointing out the door. Ginger gathered her things again, huffed, and stormed out. She passed Tig and the girl riding him in plain sight on the sofa.
"Thought I told you ta-" Tig started.
"I'm going!" Ginger practically shouted back, fuming. She went outside to see her papa sitting on a work stool drinking a beer and watching two prospects fight in the ring.
"Kick his ass!" he jeered. Ginger skipped over to him and hopped up on his lap.
"Hey there darlin!" Clay said, giving her a tight hug.
"Who you bet on?" he whispered. Ginger examined the two fighting boys and pondered for a minute.
"That one." she said pointing to the scrawnier of the two. He had red hair just like hers, and she couldn't betray a fellow red-head. Clay grinned, barring his gold teeth.
"Aight, my girl seems to think you can kick yer brother's ass, let's see it!" Clay cheered on, raising his beer. They punched harder and grunted louder. Ginger knew it was all in good fun, and blood was something she was quite used to. She'd grown up watching men fight. She would never hurt another soul herself, but also did not think it was abnormal for people to get into rows. Besides, they always slapped each other on the back afterwards and shared a drink.
"What in the holy hell you think you're doing girlfriend?" Gemma's scolding voice sounded behind them. They jumped, startled.
"Uh, she just got here, uh, I wasn't lettin her watch or anythin. Ginger get outta here!" Clay improvised, pushin her off his lap. Gemma's hands were on her hips.
"Didn't mean that, stupid. She's got homework." she said, looking pointedly at her daughter. Ginger humbled and hung her head. Gemma could be scary sometimes.
"Yes ma'am." Ginger sulked. She gathered her things, and walked off to find another place to get kicked out of. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, and she looked around for somewhere she could study. I haven't tried the meeting room. Ginger thought, then shuddered, remembering the last time she'd done something that stupid. She sighed, and something caught her eye. They can't kick me off the roof if nobody's payin any mind to it. She thought.
Ginger wasn't allowed on the roof, and had been warned plenty of times not to go up there, but being kicked out of places had really started to get on her nerves, and nobody was up there or was looking up there. She shrugged and decided she'd give it a whirl.
"Finally." She said, sitting on the slanted shingles and bringing out her math book.
A crow squawked at her and picked around the ground to see if she'd brought anything with her.
"What?" Ginger challenged, "You gonna kick me off here too?"
SQUALK. It crowed again.
"Don't have nuthin', sorry little guy." Ginger said, wishing she'd brought a sandwich with her to share. The crow flapped to the edge of the roof. Ginger probably had ADHD, but Clay didn't believe in such things, sayin these new "diseases" were the doctors tryna sell you drugs for a kid that prolly just needed a good ass whuppin. So, naturally, Ginger followed the crow, who hopped right to the edge, then squawked obnoxiously at the black sky. Ginger stared out at the abyss, broken by the twinkling lights of the town in the distance. She called it "twinkle-town", and the neighboring, slightly larger town "sparkle city."
But suddenly, some lights from twinkle town started getting bigger. There must have been a hundred of them, all moving quite fast, in this direction. They were all single lights, and they were moving too fast for the speed limit. Ginger had a gut feeling that somehow this was wrong. She wished the club would share information with her, so she knew when to expect an attack. She squinted, trying to make out anything more, but that was all she could tell.
She strained her ears and heard the familiar "vroom" in the distance of a motorcycle. She leaned too far, and slipped! The wind was scared out of her as she slid rapidly down the roof, grabbing desperately for a shingle to hang onto, but only succeeded in ripping her fingertips bloody. She caught the gutter and dangled two stories above concrete. She was still too scared to scream, her heart racing faster than the army of motorcycles approaching! When she finally found her voice, she screamed "REAPER! REAPER! REAPER!"
"Reaper" was the club code word for "get the fuck out here and bring a gun."
Members dashed out, cocking their weapons and looking for the source of the cry.
"REAPER!" she screamed again, kicking her legs to try and get back on the roof. Clay rushed out and saw his six year old daughter dangling from the roof. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped.
"Honey! Honey stay right there, I'll get a ladder!" he said.
"No! Papa an army is commin!" she screeched. Clay stopped, then heard the distant vroom of a thousand motor-bikes roaring right to them. He went pale.
"Ginger, jump." he said, dead serious. It was her turn to be panicked.
"I can't! It's too far!" she cried. She shook her head violently, on the verge of tears.
"Yes you can, we don't have time, jump now, I'll catch you." Clay promised.
"Get the rest out here, tell em to bring their weapons and hide behind somethin. I want a skeleton crew inside, protecting the cargo, y'understand?" Clay growled at Opie, Tig, Piney, and Juice. They nodded and hustled to carry out orders, shouting at the rest to get their lazy asses up, we've got a Mayan army headed our way!
Clay turned his attention back to his hanging daughter. He put his gun down and held open his arms, the lights becoming brighter and the noise louder. He was pressed for time.
"Jump sweetheart, it's fine, just jump!" he said, having an anxiety attack. Ginger realized the severity of the situation, squeezed her eyes shut, and let go. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming and alerting the approaching Mayans.
"Umph!" Clay grunted as she landed on his chest. She weighed practically nothing, being incredibly small for her age, but falling from a two story roof is enough to make the weight count.
"We'll talk about why you were on the roof later." Clay snarled. "Get to the safety hatch, quickly."
Ginger sprinted inside, between the stampede of legs hurrying to load weapons and get out. She pushed through and someone caught her collar. It was Jax.
"Ginger what's goin on?!" he demanded.
"Mayans, I think. That's what I heard Juice say." she stammered.
"Aight. Shit." Jax spat. "Get to the safety hatch."
"I don't want to! It stinks in there!" she complained. It did smell like piss.
"Get! Now!" Jax yelled, pushing her. The first gunshots from outside sounded, and Jax yanked her down. She hit the floor hard, her jaw banging on the wood. She was stunned, both from the loud sound and the fall. Jax slid her towards the secret hatch door underneath the rug, but she scrambled back and went for shelter behind the bar. Jax made a frustrated noise and grabbed for her ankles. Bullets shattered windows and glass showered down on them, nicking their ears and backs. Holes appeared in the walls as the bullets plunged through and embedded themselves in flesh or building. The sound was deafening, and Ginger squeezed her hands against her ears and grimaced.
Jax crouched behind the bar next to her. "Dammit you little shit!" he growled, but there was nothing he could do now, lest he risk sending her across the firing range. He weighed the options and decided if she got shot going to the safety hatch, he'd never forgive himself.
"If you're gonna be here, be useful." he said forcibly, shoving ammo boxes in her arms and cocking his gun. He jumped up and emptied the click, then ducked down again. Ginger reloaded hurriedly then handed the gun back. He shot back up and emptied the click, she got ready for the next one. They worked miraculously as a team, and Jax's bullets found their mark in four Mayans that tried to burst through the door. They were dead before they hit the ground.
Jax leapt up again, and a bullet just narrowly missed his head, blowing off some of his ear. The blood sprayed and got in Ginger's eyes.
"Aghhhhhhh!" Jax screamed, pressing his hand to the side of his face. Ginger knew she had to get to a med kit, and immediately got flat on her belly and army-crawled away before Jax knew and could protest. He noticed after she was halfway down the hall, making her way towards the bathroom where the first-aid stuff was. Jax was losing a lot of blood but still managed to scream bloody murder at her.
"You get the fuck back here!" he called after her. She made it to the bathroom, groping for the knob. A bullet busted the door just an inch away from her. She screamed, startled.
She pushed open the door and fumbled for the cabinet. She ripped it open and clutched the medbag to her chest and inched back to Jax, who was soaked in his own blood and swaying with dizziness, his shots going everywhere.
"Get down!" she yelled, barely able to hear her own voice over the bangs. He ducked and offered his head for her to wrap. She spun a roll of gauze around it, pulled it tight, and taped it. Jax jumped back up and continued shooting.
Suddenly, the firing stopped, there were motorcycle vrooms from outside, and a tense silence. The doors burst open, Clay was carrying half-sack over his shoulder, blood obscuring his face and dripping from his hair.
"AIGHT THE SCUMBAGS HAVE CRAWLED BACK TO THEIR HOLE IN THE GROUND. SOMEONE GO GET THE KID FROM THE-" Clay shouted, then broke off as he looked down and saw Ginger, blood coating her hands and holding an AK clip. She was literally caught red-handed.
Ginger's heart stopped and there was dead silence across the room. She could feel Clay's glare borring into her skull, white hot. Her fight or flight responses were going nuts in her brain, banging on the insides of her cranium loud enough so she could hear it. She just wanted it to be over with. She knew there aint no way she was getting outta this scott-free, or any kind of free at all. God, would he just please say something already!
"Go. To your room." Clay said, his voice shaking very dangerously with anger. Ginger darted to her room, ducking in case he wanted to slap her as she went by. She shut the door and pressed herself as far into the darkest corner as possible, curling up in a fetal position.
The room was silent, the atmosphere almost palpable with electric rage. Clay dumped half-sack's unconscious body on the couch that puffed out fluff from bullet holes. Everyone looked at their shoes, avoiding eye contact with the beast.
"Someone patch him, and by patch I mean after you heal him up, tell him he's in. Saved my life today, took two bullets." Clay finally said. He walked like a man going to his execution, down the hall. Jax's gut lurched as he realized what was happening. This was the mood Clay was most dangerous in, the silently angry state.
"Wait, Clay!" Jax called bravely. Clay turned to face his stepson. "Don't be too hard on her please, she-"
"Not a word, Jackson. Not a damn word." Clay threatened. He went on down the hall and they all heard the door click shut.
Clay saw Ginger immediately in the corner, where she went every time she was in trouble, hoping she could disappear into it.
"C'mon. We're gonna have a heart-heart." Clay said, sighing and rubbing his arthritic hands. he wasn't sure he could do this, not because he wasn't angry enough, he was plenty angry, but he was also tired, and his hands were aching a might too much to ignore. Ginger walked tentatively towards her father, and stopped at a safe distance. He towered over the tiny thing, and wondered how something so small could cause so much trouble, and make him feel all sorts of the shit-spectrum of emotions. He sighed again, not knowing what to do with her.
Everyone outside was waiting in uncomfortable anticipation. No one dared make a move. All they heard was mumbling behind the door. Gemma went over and tended to Half-sack’s wounds. Everyone looked at the floor, arms crossed, thinking about a happy place.
"I s'pose you know you aint gettin outta this without a whuppin." He stated, sore hands on hips. She nodded.
"You answer me." Clay snapped.
"Yessir." Ginger answered quickly. Her shoe-laces had become suddenly intriguing, and so she just stared at them for a spell. What if I were a shoe-lace? I bet shoelaces don't get whuppins. Sure, they're in a knot all day, but so am I, so it wouldn't be all too bad. You'd get to go everywhere without walkin, see everythin without payin, and you could just live a happy life, keepin a shoe together. You wouldn't be useless t'all. I think I wanna be a shoe-lace when I grow up. Ginger's mind wandered.
"Y'understand?! Hey! You listenin to me girl?!" Clay demanded. Ginger snapped out of it and looked into her stepfather's eyes.
"Y-Yessir." she stammered, nodding furiously. Clay's brow furrowed even further. He was even more intimidating with blood on his face.
"Dammit." Clay swore. He sat on the bed and covered his face with his hands, hating that he looked weak in front of his daughter.
"Papa?" She asked nervously.
"Why are you so goddamn useful when you disobey me?" Clay demanded. Ginger wasn't sure how she should answer this. She racked her brain for a response that might save her ass a lick. She came up with nothin.
"Imma tell you again, for the hundredth time now, I don't want you bein' useful. I want you bein safe. So stop bein a goddamn hero. When you're eighteen and move out-"
"I can make my own rules and pay my own bills." Ginger recited. Clay had often reminded her of this saying when she complained about her chores. When you're eighteen and move out, you can make your own rules and pay your own bills.
"No." Clay said solidly. "When you're eighteen and move out, I still won't let you be a hero. I will hunt you down. No one touches my family. Not the Mayans, not the Law, and not their own goddamn stupidity either. Shit, I thought Jax was bad enough." Clay mused. Ginger smiled a tad, then remembered she was gettin an ass-beating, and wiped it off her face. There was an awkward silence.
"How many times are we gon' do this?" he asked, crossing his arms. Ginger looked down. How the fucking hell do grown ups expect us to answer this shit? Her head screamed in frustration. She just stood there in silence.
"C'mere." Clay finally said, giving up. She inched forwards, not eager to run into the knife. Clay became impatient and grabbed her arm, yanking her over his knee and ripping down her sweatpants. Her skin was still damp from swim practice, and it tingled with cold. That was going to hurt like a son of a bitch. Clay cracked his knuckles, partly for intimidation, partly because they hurt. Ginger swallowed her fear and tried to keep from shaking.
SMACK. Clay's first blow landed with a resounding sound effect. Her bottom exploded in hot pain. She could feel bruises form where his rings were and welts rise where his fingers had made contact. Ginger's hand shot up immediately to protect herself. She squeaked in pain and struggled. He pulled her back and spanked her again.
SMACK SMACK SMACK. He wasted no time in delivering the next rain of slaps. She struggled and inhaled sharply, kicking and trying to wriggle away. He spanked her without a pause or break. She couldn't catch her breath in between screams and sobs. The pain was becoming unbearable, too hot. Her ass stung and the rings bit her skin harshly.
Back outside everyone had winced when they heard the first slap, some even shifted their weight or leaned away from the source of the sound.
Clay betrayed no hint that spanking her was probably hurting him just as much. His hand felt like it was broken, each fall making it worse, but he was determined to do this right. He couldn't have this little daughter of anarchy disobeying him. She had to be loyal to him first, the club second.
The spanking took a turn for the worse when Clay decided his hands were in too much pain to keep spanking her with righty. He figured, she'd fucked up bad enough for the belt anyways.
"Get up." Clay ordered. Ginger knew it wasn't over. No way Clay would go easy on her for this.
"Put your hands on the wall and bend over." he said harshly. Ginger was sobbing so hard she couldn't see the wall, and stumbled. She fell on the floor and stayed there.
"Get up. Don't you test me dammit!" Clay shouted. She didn't move, she just kept crying. He hated seeing her in pain like this, but he had to finish it. He kicked her harshly. "I TOLD YOU TO GET UP"
"Paaaapaaa pleeaaaaassseee." she wailed.
"You don't get up in three seconds, I will beat you where you are." Clay threatened, removing his belt. Ginger heard the evil hissing of the thick studded leather sliding through the hoops. She curled up to protect herself and prepared for the beating.
"One. Two. Last chance." Clay menaced, then swung the belt as hard as he could.THWACK! Her scream probably could have been heard for miles. A welt rose with bruising surrounding it. The belt had broken skin, and blood oozed from it. Ginger was shaking in pain. He raised the belt again, then paused. his anger blinded him sometimes, and he realized what he'd done. He'd broken skin. His daughter, his baby girl, his little princess was bleeding because he'd whipped her. Not spanked her. Whipped. It was medieval.
Outside, everyone heard the lash. Jax shot up and started towards the door. Gemma went after him and caught his shoulder. He looked back at her and she shook her head. Everyone had tensed up, and felt a sick twisting in their gut. Opie shook his head.
THWACK. He brought the belt down again, but nowhere near as hard as the first.
"Go on, get up, let's get this over with." Clay said. Ginger pushed herself off the floor, her limbs screeching in protest. She did as she was told. For once.
THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK. He whupped her with the belt, but only hard enough to raise a welt, not a bruise, and certainly not draw blood again. He swore he'd never go there again. It was another ten minutes until the beating was over.
She was shaking, sobbing, crying, and breathing irregularly. Clay reached down to comfort her, but she jerked away from him. That stabbed him in the heart. So he knelt at her side as she sobbed herself calm. Eventually, after a couple minutes of crying, she forgave him, and crawled up on his lap and cried into his blood-soaked plaid shirt. He held her tight, swearing he'd never let go. Not ever. Ginger was not the type who could hold a grudge, not even for ten minutes.
Outside, the breath everyone had been holding in was released. It was over.
"C'mon, we're gonna go out there, you're gonna apologize, then we're gonna put this mess behind us." He said. She sniffled.
"Hey hey hey, we're teller-morrows. We're the sons and daughters of anarchy. What do we do best?" He asked, stroking her hair.
"S-S-S-s-survive." she gasped. He patted her, but she winced. God, could he do anything that didn't cause her pain?! He thought, kicking himself.
"That's right. We'll clean up. We'll re-build. We won today. Part of that, was because of you baby." he cooed into her hair, then kissed the top of her head. She and Gemma were his only two soft-spots. Jax, meh, he'd go extra measures for him, protect him at any cost, but he'd have no problem beatin the shit out of him. Ginger was a different story. It didn't just hurt his hands, it hurt his heart.
They went out, Clay holding her hand. She apologized through sniffles, and Half-sack woke up.
"Jesus kid you can scream somethin horrid." he said, rubbing his head. She snickered, then ran up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Congratulations! You're my brother now!" She announced. He was fighting real hard not to scream in pain, her hug straining his stitches.
"Love ya kiddo." he said, ruffling her hair.
"Aight, how 'bout we clean this shit up." Gemma suggested, looking around at the broken glass, the blood, and the shotgun shells and bullets strewn on the floor. Everyone agreed and started to work.
Jax pulled Clay aside, fuming. He could hear his sister's screaming, and had murder in his eyes.
"What the fuck do you think you were doing?!" Jax hissed.
"The same thing I'll do to you if you decide to piss me off, boy." Clay snarled back, getting uncomfortably close in Jax's face. Jax wasn't about to back down though.
"That wasn't no spankin, Clay. That was a beating. What happened?!" Jax demanded. Clay broke.
"I fucked up." he said quietly. Jax was confused, he expected threats, abuse etc. Instead, he got Clay admitting he had been wrong? What?
"I went too hard on her. I admit that, but you're partly responsible for this. Why was she hidin out with you behind that bar?!" Clay challenged.
"She followed me. Shots started firing, couldn't send her to the hatch." Jax said. Clay nodded. Another something unexpected.
"Comfort her. I just need her to stay safe." Clay said tiredly. Jax nodded.
"Finally, something we agree on." Jax said. Clay clapped him on the back and they went back to work.
When they'd done all they could do, they sat exhausted, and drank beer. Gemma brought out a guitar and started playin and they had a little impromptu initiation party to celebrate Half-sack's patching.
Ginger curled up in Jax's lap, clutching to him tight. He could tell she was still a bit scared of Clay. Gemma took her to bed and sang her to sleep, running her painted nails through her daughter's hair.
"Lemme see it baby." she said. Ginger gingerly pulled her sweat pants down and her shirt up. Gemma's eyes widened when she saw the welts and bruises on her daughter's back. A tear fell out of her eye before she could stop it.
"It aint too bad baby. You gon be sore a while though. Let me get you somethin for the pain." Gemma said, turning and leaving before her daughter could see her cry. She ran right into Jax, who caught her shoulders and tilted her face up. He saw her crying and immediately there was concern all over his face, ready to kill whatever hurt his mom.
"You makin your mother cry?!" Jax demanded of his sister. Then he saw, just as she put her shirt down, a flash of dried blood.
"What the hell is that?!" He flared, crossing the room and grabbing at her. She pushed him off.
"It's nothin I'm fine!" she said. He wrestled her and yanked her shirt up. A long gash that ran five inches was starting to scab, oozing clear puss that smelled metallic. Jax winced.
"Holy shit. I've had whuppins but aint never got this bad." Jax said.
"I said I'm alright. 'Sides, I deserved it sorta." she reasoned.
"Not this bad you didn't." Jax said.
Gemma stormed in their bedroom, fuming.
"Hey baby." Clay said before he saw her angry face.
"Oh shit, you're crying?" He asked incredulously.
"You whipped that little girl senseless!" Gemma exploded, crying. Clay's face fell.
"I know." he said quietly.
"YOU-what?" Gemma asked, surprised.
"I know. I shouldn't have gone so hard on her." Clay said.
"Yeah, you shouldn't have. She''s gonna have a scar the rest of her life where her daddy beat her. She aint never gonna forget that." Gemma said.
"Good!" He yelled. "She will never do that again."
"You sick bastard." Gemma hissed.
"You will keep your hands off her Clay, you will keep your hands off her, until her hurts heal, and I think you're safe around her again." Gemma said.
"She's my daughter." Clay argued.
"And you put a scar on her back!" Gemma retaliated.
"Until this shit between you and Jax is over, and until we're steered clear of danger, you aint gonna punish her. You can talk at her all you want, but you'll leave the whuppins to me and Jax." Gemma said.
"Jax?!" Clay raged.
"Yes, Clay. Jackson! He has more patience with kids, that's what Ginger needs. She's a good kid in a bad situation." Gemma said. There was a silence while Clay figured out something to say.
"Alright." Clay agreed finally. Gemma was the single person that could change his mind.
"And tomorrow you're going to mend your bond with your daughter. Take the day off, and spend it with her." Gemma insisted. Clay nodded.
The next day Clay followed up on his promise. Clay and Ginger went on a hike, Ginger's favorite thing to do. She'd already forgiven him, but Clay needed to forgive himself.
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Daughters of Anarchy