Mija

Diedra had never been so glad that a majority of the club was on a run. The last thing she wanted to do was go home when she was like this and have her sister see. Happy wasn’t there to be a buffer an she just didn’t want to risk it. Dakota seeing the state that she was in had a greater chance of making things worse rather than making them better.

However, Happy being out of town with the club did mean that his dorm would be empty and up for grabs. Since most of the other guys went with him, Diedra was assuming that the clubhouse would be pretty dead when she got there. For once, she might be able to lick her wounds in private.

When she pulled into the lot, there was only one bike there. The compound was quiet, and the lights looked like they were all off in the clubhouse. She let out a sigh of relief, instantly followed by a wince, as she cut the ignition on her car.

She crept quietly through the open space of the clubhouse. Her slow, quiet steps had more to do with the pain shooting through her body than it did with her trying to actually be quiet. She fumbled around the bar in search of the first aid kit. Once she found it, she made her way back to where Happy’s dorm was.

Peeling off her hoodie and the t-shirt that she had on underneath, Diedra was left in just her bra on her torso as she looked down at her stomach. She couldn’t help but to let out a wince as she looked at all of the bruises and the two stab wounds that were still leaking blood just below her chest. She let out a shaky breath as she grabbed a medical wipe out of the first aid kit and started to carefully wipe the blood away at least where she was going to need to do some work.

Each time she touched anywhere on her upper body, she was fighting the urge to curse and cry. Everything hurt and was sensitive to touch—she was fairly certain that on top of everything else, at least one of her ribs was bruised or fractured. Another problem to deal with tomorrow.

Digging out some more supplies, Diedra tried to mentally prepare herself for the stitches that she was going to have to give herself. She was used to giving them to other people, but this was going to be different. It hurt when others had given them to her in the past, but at least them all she had to do was try to sit still and let the other person do the work. This was going to be so much harder.

She reached and pulled the drawer of Happy’s nightstand open, blindly feeling around for anything that she could bite down on to keep herself from screaming in pain. Her fingers grazed over the handle of one of his knives. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was going to have to do.

It was the most unsteady her hands had been in a long time as she set about trying to patch herself up. Every touch hurt, and now she was pulling at and piercing the skin that was already starting to darken with bruises.

Her teeth clamped down on the handle of the knife, and it muffled most of the noise that she would’ve been making. One whine slipped past her lips, sounding louder than it really was against the silence of the clubhouse. Her fingers were trembling violently as she fought to keep her grip on the needle that she was closing herself up with.

She hadn’t heard the footsteps over the sound of her own breathing and her deafening vulgar internal monologue. It wasn’t until the door creaked from someone pushing it open further that she realized she wasn’t alone.

Her eyes were wide from shock, filled to the brim with tears from the pain, and yet despite all of that, her face still hardened with anger when she laid her eyes on Jax. She was completely frozen, knife handle still in her mouth and stitching materials in her hands as she waited for him to either say something or leave.

It took a few seconds for the shock of the scene to wear off, but eventually Jax snapped to it and stepped into the room. Panic was written all over his face as he walked closer to her. “Jesus Christ, Di.”

She clenched her jaw for a moment before turning her head and letting the knife drop onto the mattress. “Leave, Jax,” she snapped.

He raked his hands back through his hair, not able to reconcile the sight of her with the Diedra that he was so used to seeing. He’d seen her with some bruises and scrapes before, sure, but he had never seen her like this. He’d never seen her looking like she lost a fight.

“What the hell happened?” he asked as he walked closer, standing next to the bed and looking down at her.

“What does it fucking look like?!” Her breathing was ragged from pain and exertion, and the rapid rise and fall only added to the pain she was already dealing with.

Jax sat down on the edge of the bed and reached to try and take the needle from her so that he could help her. It was no secret to anyone that the two of them never figured out how to get along, but that didn’t mean he was going to leave her to struggle through this on her own.

“Let me—”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snapped, doing her best to pull away from him even though in her current position it was hard to do.

The sharpness of her tone got him to stop for a moment. For once in his life he tried to think about what his next move was going to be. He saw the blood smeared down her side and all over her hands, the bruises blooming across her skin. He had no idea how she ended up like that. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“Who did this to you?” he finally asked.

She shook her head as she went back to trying to close up one of the lacerations on her side. “What’s it matter?” She hissed in pain as she pierced her skin. “Are you gonna run out there and try to save the day? Try to make things right?”

“I’m just trying to fucking help you.”

“And I’m telling you that I don’t want or need your fucking help.”

“Looks like you do.”

“Fuck,” she said as she let her head drop back against the pillow.

Jax waited another moment before saying, “Let me help, Di. I’m all you got right now.”

She let out a short laugh through the pain. “Fuck me. That’s sad isn’t—”

“Give me the goddamn needle,” Jax cut her off as he reached once more to help her.

She hesitated for a moment, still not wanting to let him help her. On top of not trusting him all that much in general, she also didn’t want this to just turn into something that he got to hold over her head after the fact. The last thing she wanted was to owe him some sort of debt. Knowing how that whole family operated, she knew that it was a perfectly likely outcome.

“If you ever mention this shit again…” her voice trailed off.

“I won’t.” A strange brand of relief went across Jax’s face. “I swear.”

He went to take the needle from her and she tightened her grip for a moment. “You ever try to make me feel like I owe you for this shit, you’ll end up in worse shape than I’m in right now.”

Despite the fact that she was shaking and bleeding, Jax believed her wholeheartedly. He nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She relinquished her hold on the needle. “Hurry up, then. Shit hurts.” Jax only made it about thirty seconds into stitching her up when she managed to force out, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Not a clue,” he replied with no hesitation.

She let out something that was almost a laugh. “Of course. They had to leave the dumb one behind for me this time.”

Jax took the comment in stride—it was far from the worst thing that she’d ever said to him. “Well, the dumb one is gonna make sure you don’t bleed out all over Hap’s bed.”

True to his word, Jax did manage to stitch up both of her wounds and managed to not make anything worse. It wasn’t the most graceful job, but it worked. He was going to offer to help clean up the blood and try to make things easier, but he figured that he had already pushed his luck enough as it was.

He was wiping some of the blood off his own hands as he watch Diedra slowly stand up from the bed. She couldn’t stretch and was moving slowly, but at least she was moving. Jax silently held out the rag he’d been using. Diedra took it and started to gently pat and wipe away the blood on her side.

She let out a small wince of pain that caused Jax to turn and look back over at her. He watched as she wiped some of the blood away from her bruises. It was only then that he noticed the tattoo that was inked into her hip. The small smiley face probably wouldn’t have stood out to anyone else, especially not stacked up against the rest of her tattoos, but Jax had seen them before—he knew what they meant.

When he pried his eyes back up to Diedra’s, she was already looking at him, a serious expression on her face. Jax cleared his throat and shook his head, a wordless promise to not say anything.

“I’d say thanks, but this didn’t happen,” Di told him.

Jax combed over the papers sat in front of him, trying his hardest to focus. SAMCRO and the Street Wolves now officially owned their first piece of joint property together and the next phase was to get the necessary building inspection in order. He lazily gleaned over the various checklists that outlined all of the building codes that needed to be satisfied. He’d been in the Garden lounge for hours making sure everything was in check after Sairah gracefully went over what to expect that might need to be done. His desire for the inspection to go smoothly was only one of the thoughts that was cartwheeling through his mind all day. The other was McKenzie. 

It had been about two weeks since they started their arrangement, and in that time, they had managed to christen the entirety of Jax’s house along with the back of McKenzie’s Camry and against a tree on their impromptu hiking date last weekend. 

Besides that first sneaky link in a dorm room at the Garden, they had been careful not to mess around or even interact much under the nose of others. And even though he was very much enthralled by McKenzie’s suggestion to swing by her firehouse while she was on shift so that they could have a rendezvous in the back of an ambulance, he wasn’t even willing to risk the possibility of her coworkers finding out about them. 

They had quickly eased into the exhilarating dynamic and it had been the most enlivening experience Jax had had in years. Thrilling in the sense that their deception was caught on by none. But simple in the sense that there were no expectations. Uncomplicated. Caveat free.

Jax let out a sigh and forced himself to focus yet again on the papers he was supposed to be studying. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her. Every idle moment he had, his mind veered off to thoughts of her. She was everywhere even when she wasn’t there physically. From the moment they would part, he would wonder when the next time he’d get to see her again. 

“Yeah, I just need to go shower, Lise.” 

McKenzie’s voice flowed in from the hallway and he could just barely register movement through the cracked door. Jax pushed himself out of the chair and walked towards the lounge door. When he opened it further, McKenzie was walking towards a dorm room where she’d presumably go to take a shower in one of the adjointed bathrooms. A second set of footsteps could be heard from the opposite end of the hall and Lisa appeared from the stairs.

“Hey, Lisa,” Jax greeted her for the first time today, “Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, looks like McKenzie had a shitty shift if the dried up blood on her clothes is any indication,” Lisa supplied, “You would think working a morning half-shift would be slow in this neck of the woods…”

Jax rubbed his chin, “Yeah, you could say the same thing for Charming, but the ER was always busy at St. Thomas.”

Lisa hummed in acknowledgement, “So what are you up to? Still going over those notes Sairah outlined for you?”

“Yeah, she’s very… thorough,” Jax laughed and Lisa joined in, but not in surprise.

“The perks of having an architect in your pocket!” Building codes and city ordinances were already in Sairah’s wheelhouse given her line of work, so Gil looping her in for advice on how best to pass all these inspections wasn’t much of a large feat. As much as she playfully complained about being “on-call” for people who weren’t her clients, she never not anticipated being of assistance once the Street Wolves and SAMCRO went into legit business.

From down the stairs, the two heard one of the bartenders calling for Lisa to sign an incoming delivery of imported tequila. Lisa left with a pat on his back to go tend to business and Jax watched her until she was completely down the stairs. 

And then his gaze flicked back to the opposite end of the hall in the direction McKenzie went. He stood still for another second or so, making sure no one else was coming up into the Street Wolf territory that was separate from the bar. And even though his mind reminded him that maybe he should keep his distance while under a roof shared with the very people they were attempting to mask their arrangement from, his legs carried him towards wherever she was. Aside from simply wanting to be near her, he couldn’t fight the urge to check on her after what sounded like a tense shift. He was sure she was fine, but still, he wanted to confirm for himself. 

Any potential messing around that might arise from them being in a quiet space away from prying eyes was simply an added bonus.

Slipping into the dorm room, he followed the noise of the running water in the ensuite bathroom. The door was unlocked and she was already under the steaming hot water as he began to undress himself. Without warning, he ripped the shower curtain back and clamped a hand around her mouth. A small squeak was still able to peek through, but it was masked by Jax’s own chuckle when he saw her eyes slit from alarm to relief and annoyance. 

When he moved his hand, she whisper-yelled, “Jesus, Jax!” 

He could feel her rapid heart beat slowing down as they stood chest to chest in the shower. Within the small space, she maneuvered them so that he wasn’t directly under the showerhead. She didn’t know how he’d explain why his hair was wet otherwise. 

He wore a lopsided grin instead of apologizing before adding, “Thought you’d might want some company…” The glint in his eyes became more hedonic as they swept down her body.

“Feeling reckless, are we?” 

His hands moved to her hips in response and she shivered irresistibly against his touch. 

“A little,” he whispered against the skin of her jaw. A contented sigh flowed from her lips and her hands reached towards the back of his neck. Soon enough, their lips met and tangled in a tug of war that gradually heated. McKenzie could feel his desire for her grow against her thigh as he deepened the kiss.

Jax was the first one to pull back, his kisses leaving her lips but returning to her jaw. His hands continued exploring the contours of her hips. They were wrapped as if he were holding handlebars and his thumbs danced along closer to the interior of her thighs. Her breath hitched as one of his thumbs lightly brushed against a sensitive spot of skin.

He kissed her lips once more before asking, “You okay?”

“Yeah, that feels good,” she licked her lips. 

“No, I meant about earlier… Lisa said you had a rough shift?”

McKenzie’s eyes softened in understanding and maybe appreciation. There were a million things she could say about the shifts that dragged the life out of her, but she found nothing to say in that moment in this small space with minimal distance between them. 

“I’m okay,” she simply said.

“You sure?” His eyes traced over her. He found curiosity in her eyes before she opened her mouth to reply.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Good.”

And then, he placed a delicate kiss on her lips as he grabbed under her thigh and held her between himself and the shower wall. His other hand rested on the wall itself and he deepened the kiss to swallow out her moans as he sank into her. They were on borrowed time, and even though he could’ve stayed in there with her forever, he made use of the several minutes he was given.

He sped up as soon as she became acclimated to the sensation of him in her depths. His thrusts became gradually harsher and rougher, with the feeling of McKenzie’s nails digging into his back encouraging his unrelenting pace. The feeling of her legs shaking gave him indication that she was as close as he was. Instead of slowing down, he kept his furious pace until he could feel teeth marks around his shoulder. They reached their muzzled peaks together.

The sound of the water running and them catching their breaths were the only things heard within the small space. 

Seconds passed as their bodies disconnected. Their eyes, however, remained glued on each other. Soon, a shy smile coveted McKenzie’s lips. 

Jax began to wash himself in the shower and her smile only grew.

“Wowwww, so not only do you come and interrupt my shower, you steal it too?”

She could see the lazy smirk on his face from the side as he swiped the bottle of Irish Spring from the rack. 

“To be fair, it was needed after that workout.”

He winked at her as she shook her head while pushing him so that she was closer up under the water. He chuckled and they finished cleansing their bodies together. Jax left the shower before her and was out of the bathroom by the time McKenzie turned the water off. She opened the door to the adjoining dorm room and saw him peeking out to check if the coast was clear. Without looking, he heard her traipse behind him.

“I’m getting ready to go back out there. We’re heading into the town today.” 

She nodded and gave him a wet hug, “Thanks for stopping by.” 

Jax grinned, “Any time, darlin’.”

************

Jax took off his helmet before strapping it in its place on his bike and dismounting the Dyna. He blew out a heavy, yet excited sigh as he looked all around the slowly familiar town. It was still as empty as it was the last several times he’d been here, but that was where the excitement came in. With time and if they played their cards right, SAMCRO and the Street Wolves could be the defining factor that took this place from a ghost town into a profitable, thriving urbane.

All of the members from both crews were here, the first time everyone would be visiting their first joint property together. Remarkably, it was the biggest property on the lengthy, deserted street. And it would hopefully one day come to be their very own casino. 

There were dozens of ideas that were flipped around in their various meetings and starting a casino was one that they kept coming back around to. Through all of their ideas, one of the topics of debate was what would be the most sensible avenue for them to go into their first foray of business. Sure, they had the far-seeing plans to open stores, maybe a restaurant, a strip club, an arcade or bowling alley, but with their current contacts and connections, with the experience that they already had as former outlaws, starting a casino seemed to be the most advantageous. It had the most promise of being a success.

“Here’s our future, boys!” Gil exclaimed with his arms held wide. Cheers and raucous excitement filled the air as they all took in the visual tangibility of their dreams.

One by one, they filed into the large, desolate space and envisioned their future. 

“The place is yours to look around, boys! Get the lay of the land,” Jax proclaimed, “Take note. Hell, take pictures. By our next meeting, we want everyone’s input about how we can build the best damn casino this shithole has ever seen!”

Jax, Gil, Flu, and Bobby had all seen the property a few times by now, having visited the premises with the real estate agent. Still, that didn’t stop Bobby from going up the steps to marvel at the detailing of the balcony railings or Flu from showing Sweets the broken, dusty jukebox in the corner near the front windows. 

Jax and Gil stood to the side and mainly enjoyed everyone else’s explorations. They looked at each other briefly and shared a joyous laugh at just how exciting this all was. It was no longer just talk for them. The wheels were in motion. 

Not unlike the wheels that screeched to a halt right outside. 

The sound was jarring, except no one really got the chance to register what the noise was until the ringing sound of gunshots filled the air. Like butter, they drilled through the glass windows and punctured the door and walls. Jax stumbled backwards from the sheer surprise with a “holy shit” pulled from the back of his throat. Gil fell forwards right next to him and they both leapt to reach for their own guns.

Bobby, Rev, and Chibs had better visuals from the second level and shot through the upstairs, loft-like windows. A couple of others were able to get a few shots off from below but most avoided pulling their triggers for fear of bullet ricocheting and hitting their close-by brothers-in-arms. With limited sight to the outside without peeking up and getting their heads blown off, most of them were unable to get an idea of who was popping off the shots.

Less than a minute after the shots first rang out, they could hear the tires squelch as their assailants fled the scene. Opie, who was closest to the front entrance, kicked the bullet-ridden door open and stalked outside. With Jax and Gil on his heels, he fired off a few shots that only bounced off the retreating black SUV. The vehicle had sped off so fast they weren’t even able to get a look at how many people were inside. There was a silent second of contemplation over whether to hop on their bikes and chase after whoever just opened a demented can of worms. Before they could make the decision however, there were pain-filled groans emanating from inside. 

Marching back inside, they were met with the image of Sweets lying on the floor, clutching his blood-soaked shoulder. Flu leaned over him and held pressure to the wound as Chibs jogged over to help.

“What the fuck just happened?” Rev exclaimed. 

All around, the members of SAMCRO and Street Wolves caught their breath while warily asking themselves the same question.

Jax spoke up trying to restore order, “We don’t have time to figure that out right now. We gotta get the hell out of here!” They had zero indication of who these people were, what they were after, and whether they were circling the block.

“Let’s get back to the Garden and regroup!” Gil was dialing the keys on his phone as he gave his order and Jax heard him giving Lisa a heads up about what had just happened and whether McKenzie was still at the Garden. 

Flu and Chibs helped Sweets up and guided him outside with alert and cautious eyes for any impending danger. Jax took a look out of the window himself and saw that while there was extensive damage done to the SAMCRO van that Half-Sack had driven, the tires seemed intact and would be okay for the drive back into Highwater; there’d be no way for Sweets to drive his own bike with the damage done to his shoulder.

Rev and Jax cast wary glances at each other in between surveying the damage inside and attempting to process what the fuck just happened. Their new property was mostly barren, so they didn’t care enough to closely examine each morsel of damage since the place was going to need considerable renovations, anyway. They simply made note of what they could see from their vantage point near the front of the building and began to slowly walk out. 

As they all rode back to the Garden, Jax tried to reason through who could’ve been responsible for them nearly getting their heads blown off today. They were supposed to be on their way to a brand new paved road of legitimateness. And this major hitch in the road needed to be answered for. He let his mind roll through all of SAMCRO’s former enemies, but found none that would fit the bill. They were good with the IRA, as neutral as they could be after their clubhouse was blown up. Marcus Alvarez was practically bounding with glee when Jax brokered a deal that gave the Mayans some good arms dealing contacts that SAMCRO was no longer doing business with. Jimmy O was dead. Pope was dead. Zobelle was somewhere living it up on an island. Clay only sees sunlight one hour of the day. There was no one they left the game having active beef with.

He shook his head, still confused and anxious, as he dismounted his bike near the side entrance of the Garden. The Street Wolves had even less enemies than SAMCRO and Gil had already been upfront about their adversaries when the two clubs were first in talks to start this journey together. None of those names set off any alarms in Jax’s head, either. 

He held the door open for Chibs and Flu who each held one of Sweets’ arms as they guided him inside. Lisa and McKenzie were already waiting by the side door and McKenzie immediately jumped into action by leading them upstairs. The closest dorm room nearby had already been set up something close to a hospital room, with all kinds of gauze, medical equipment, and medications prepped and ready to go. 

McKenzie pried off the part of Sweets’ shirt that was now caked with congealing blood. 

Chibs stood there waiting to assist, “It slowed down, but he’s still bleeding, lass. He’s been in and out of it.” 

“Yeah, it’s only a through and through, but he drinks like a fucking sailor which thins the blood,” McKenzie noted as she silently gestured for him to help lift his upper half. There were some pressors in her med kit that would help and she silently gestured for them as she continued examining the wounds. She wanted to make sure there were no small pellets or projectile still lodged inside his shoulder. 

“I was a sailor,” Sweets responds with garbled, half-conscious awareness, “Non sibi sed patriae.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, semper fi and all that shit,” McKenzie muttered, which earned her a glazed over glower from the man she considered an uncle. A glower she happily welcomed because that meant he was in his right mind to be annoyed with her dismissal. 

Meanwhile, across the hall, Gil had gathered everyone else into the lounge room to allow McKenzie and Chibs to work. The room was filled with buzzed up nerves and lots of questions. Gil paced around, his mood shot from how quickly this day had changed from celebratory into damn near deadly. 

“Okay, but seriously, what the fuck happened? Did anyone get a look at the shooters?” Rev asked as he leaned against the side table in front of the TV.

Bobby responded, “They were wearing all black and wore bandanas over their face. At least, one was White. There were three, maybe four, but it was hard to see with the bullets flying every which way.”

“One of those bandanas was the American flag but it had some green and orange in it…” Opie chimed in.

“IRA?” Ace questioned.

“No, the IRA have their own flag.” Gil answered.

“Wait, was it like the stripes that were orange and green?” Cam piped up. He, along with X, were the newest prospects of the Street Wolves. X stayed glued to the wall with his mouth shut, like a prospect was expected to. And Cam was usually inclined to follow suit, but his mind was flashing him back to an odd moment that happened several weeks ago. His eyes flashed over to Brandon, who had been uncharacteristically silent since the shooting took place.

Gil caught Cam’s eyes and noticed the way Brandon had averted his gaze.

“What?” His voice was clipped, impatience on his tongue, “What is it?”

“It’s just that-” Cam only paused in hesitation for a minute but quickly let his words spill past his teeth as he took in how every face in the room was focusing on him. “When me and B made that run to Nevada, I just remembered… Brandon talking to a guy. And that guy had guys with him. And one of them had that same kind of bandana.”

Gil whizzed around to Brandon, nothing but ice in his voice, “What the fuck is he talking about?”

Brandon sighed and rubbed the back of his head with a hand, “Look, before this thing with the property went through, I had doubts that we were gonna be able to cough up the money…” 

Rev could already tell where this was going and he groaned out a “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me..”

Gil slit his eyes at him impatiently, irritated that there was something he was obviously not in the loop about, before facing Brandon again. 

Jax, too, knew exactly where this was heading and the source of how this trouble may have started. He remembers the tense conversation he had to have with the reckless Street Wolf weeks ago for trying to pull in someone from the outside without even consulting Gil.

“There was a guy I knew from another guy and he was willing to put some skin in the game and maybe partner up with us.” Brandon put his hands up in defense at the sounds of indignation and disbelief that encircled the room, “I thought it’d be a good back up plan to have someone who could front us some cash, just in case.”

“Who?” 

By now, Gil’s hands were itching to be wrapped around his once almost son-in-law. His ears were ringing with fury. “Who?” was his simple inquiry, but the lethality in his tone was nothing Brandon wanted to undermine.

He sighed, “It was just some Irish guy,” he rushed out his next words to clear the air, “But he wasn’t fucking IRA, I swear. He told me to my face that he wasn’t affiliated anymore. He got pushed out by some Kings.”

Jax’s blood ran cold.

“Jesus Christ,” It suddenly became all too clear who the gunmen were hired by, “Galen fucking O’Shay?!”

“I swear to God this wasn’t part of the plan. Okay, he was pissed, but he never said anything about killing anybody.”

“Obviously, shit head, otherwise, we’d all be dead! This was a warning more than anything.” Rev supplied.

“Warning for what, though?” Juice implored, “What’s his fucking endgame? He’s mad he didn't get in on the deal, so now he’s just gonna what? Fuck up our shit??”

Opie jumped in, “Odds are he’s still pissy that we got him kicked out of the good graces of the Kings.” Out of the Street Wolves, Gil and Rev were the only ones who knew exactly what he was talking about, about how Jax told the Kings that Galen had been doing outside deals without their knowledge for decades and forthwith got him ex-communicated from the syndicate, “Which means he doesn’t have their backing anymore. Not saying we shouldn’t see him as a threat, considering today, but he doesn’t have the backing he used to.”

“Yeah, he’s probably been waiting for any chance to shoot us in the face after everything that went down,” Bobby contributed and then specifically addressed the Street Wolves, “Shitty that you gents got inadvertently kicked into the crossfire.”

Rev placated, “Nah, don’t worry about that. We all knew this was a possibility when we went into business together.”

“Exactly,” Gil echoed, though not all of the violent chill had left his voice as his eyes never left Brandon, “We’re not here to play the blame game. We just need to come up with a game plan on how to nip this shit in the bud immediately.”

Going legit and staying legit had always been the overarching goal. But even if they decided to let this go unanswered, they had no way of knowing whether Galen would try some shit like this again. For the sake of their livelihood, for the sake of their very lives, this wasn’t something that could just go ignored. Everyone in the room knew it. 

Much like they knew Brandon’s transgressions would have to be answered for. 

Gil locked eyes with Jax and a look of understanding passed between them.

Jax was still fuming himself, but he took the resigned, yet still agitated change in the air to steer this talk to a pause.

“Shit could’ve gotten real dicey. They got the element of surprise on us and it nearly led to losing one of our own. A few inches to the middle and that bullet could’ve easily sliced open Sweets’ heart,” Jax let that sit in the air for a few seconds before continuing, “We’re all hopped up on adrenaline right now, so we’ll leave this until tomorrow. But we will end this shit that Galen started. Nobody’s taking away all that we’ve been working towards.”

He swiped a dirty glare at Brandon while retreating and allowing everyone to take their leave. Several of them slumped over across the hall to check in on Sweets while others either chilled out in the lounge room or left the Garden entirely to take a ride for some fresh air. Jax caught a final glance at Gil and Brandon, the former silently signaling for the latter to follow him.

******

Before he could even react, Brandon felt the pain of his back and side being violently pushed up against the wall of the downstairs Wolves’ Den. He felt dread fill his entire frame as he followed Gil down the steps, past the patrons of the bar, and into the exclusive Wolves-only sanctuary. His trepidation was replaced by pangs of angry throbbing as Gil slammed him yet again against the cold, unforgiving wall.

Not that he would’ve dared fight back to begin with, but he wasn’t even given the chance to before Gil grabbed him by the shirt and thrusted him forward towards the now closed door. This time, the force elicited an agonized yelp from him.

“Ah, fuck!” He looked down and saw that his torso had connected with the knob of the door. There would surely be a bruised indentation of the pointy portion of the lock enclosed into his skin by morning.

He opened his mouth to at least explain himself, “Look, I just thought he would help-” 

“SHUT UP!” Gil’s voice boomed against the four walls of the room, his harsh glare focused on Brandon, “I don’t care what the fuck you thought, you’re not the fucking president of this club. You don’t make decisions and you sure as shit don’t go around trying to make deals without asking for my say so.”

“If we didn’t get the money-”

Gil’s fist connected with the apple of Brandon’s cheek with enough force that the man’s head bounced off the door he’d been holding onto. 

“Shit!” He exclaimed as he knelt down to the floor, clutching onto his cheek and the part of his face that had collided with the door.

“If we didn’t get the money from the bank, we would’ve figured something out. The right fucking way, even if it took longer than we planned. That’s just how the shit goes!” Gil began pacing around the table, attempting to calm his ire, “It wasn’t your fucking concern whether we got the money or not, that’s what Flu and Bobby had been appointed to focus on. Just like I, as the president of this club, has been appointed to make decisions on who does what and whether they have my say so. Did you get my fucking say so?!”

“Prez, if I could just-” Brandon coughed out.

Gil grabbed him by the shirt again and tossed him towards the lengthy table he’d been pacing around.

“Jesus fucking Christ, can you shut the fuck up and actually listen?!” Gil pushed him again, lightly, into one of the chairs. “I don’t wanna hear your goddamn excuses. The beginning and end of your actions ended up leading to Sweets getting a fucking hole in his shoulder.”

Gil sighed and leaned up against one of the chairs, “I know you had good intentions. I know you’re always doing what’s best for the club. The point is, you went over my head and tried to pull some shit that either you knew I wouldn’t approve of or you just wanted it to be some sort of surprise to show off. You thought you knew better, but you didn’t. Pulling a cowboy move like this doesn’t impress me, it pisses me off.” He shook his head at the young, cocky man sitting in front of him, “You want more responsibility, I can see it. But that shit takes trust, and I don't know whether I should put my trust in you after what’s happened.”

“You can trust me,” Brandon interjected, his voice ardent, “I made a mistake. I was just trying to pull my weight. I’ve been in the club almost ten years, Gil, I was just doing what I thought was best to help my brothers. You can’t blame me for that!” 

Gil’s eyes narrowed. There was sympathy in his look, sure, but there was still a whole lot of animosity in his orbs and Brandon wasn’t sure if he was about to wind up with some broken bones or not. 

But still, that small measure of sympathy.

A killer grip landed on Brandon’s shoulder as Gil leaned down and invaded his personal space.

“I’ve got just enough self-control right now not to throw you off the fucking roof. I’m gonna go upstairs. I’m gonna go check on Sweets. I’m gonna go kiss my wife. I’m gonna go take a fucking nap. When I wake back up, the entirety of this goddamn bar better be fucking spotless. If you’re gonna act like a hotshot, like you’re the fucking president of this MC, you’re gonna get treated like a useless ass prospect.” 

Brandon opened up his mouth to protest before Gil halted his words with a sneer, “Close your fucking mouth before I put a gun in it. Consider this a warning. You’re on probation until I say otherwise. You don’t like it? There’s the fucking door.” 

Gil backed away and his anger switched off like a light. It was replaced with dead fatigue now that the adrenaline from earlier had faded. He wandered out of the room and lugged up the stairs to check on his Sergeant-at-arms. Brandon stayed in his seat, rooted with anger in his veins.

*******

Jax sat at the bar, quietly nursing the whiskey Lisa had placed in front of him. She’d left him the entire bottle and he knocked back another shot as he waited for McKenzie to come downstairs. 

Over an hour had passed since she and Chibs had been holed up in the dorm room, taking care of Sweets. He was stable, they knew that much, but he still waited until she finally reappeared. There were several things he had intended on accomplishing today, but the abrupt chaos of earlier had seen to his productivity being squandered for the day.

The traffic of the bar had started to pick up some now that the afternoon was in full swing, and he had barely registered Gil emerging from the dark, secluded hallway that led to the Wolves’ Den. It wasn’t until the Street Wolves president had made his way over to Lisa and sought comfort in her arms that Jax noticed him. The man was still pretty young, about the same age as his mom, but he looked like he had aged ten years since the events of earlier. The presidents exchanged a tight nod before Gil retreated upstairs. 

Only several minutes later, McKenzie had finally appeared. Her eyes immediately met him and she gave him a tired smile as she walked over to where he was. 

“How is he?” 

“Knocked out,” she leaned against the bar and Jax noticed there were still remnants of dried blood under her fingernails. He grabbed a wet wipe from across the bar and handed it to her as she continued giving her assessment, “The bullet was a through and through, so no major damage. Gave him some pressors to stop the bleeding. As long as he stays off the bottle and keeps on his antibiotics, he should be good.” 

“Good,” he blew out a heavy sigh, putting a hand at the back of his head. 

Her eyebrows furrowed at the unease on his face, “He’s actually been shot before. And trust me, this was a miracle compared to that time he took a shiv to the neck when he was in prison… Shit, I was in high school and I still remember it like yesterday, one of the few times I’ve seen my dad cry.”

McKenzie could see he was in his own world as she tried to ease his comforts. She took a side glance and saw that Lisa was in the kitchen. Then, she grabbed his hand. 

“Hey, seriously, he’s okay. And this wasn’t your fault…” When some of the guys came in to check on Sweets, they filled Chibs in on what they had surmised had gone down, not minding that she was in the room, too. McKenzie wasn’t familiar with the name Galen O’Shay, but she heard the bristle in Juice’s voice as he gave an off-hand mention to some of SAMCRO’s dealings with the man. “Whatever history you got with that fucker aside, Brandon was out of his fucking mind to go behind my dad’s back like that,” she said. 

“Yeah, but, darlin’, you don’t know the half of it. This shit with Galen…”

“Is whatever it is,” McKenzie finished for him, “And you don’t have to tell me or explain. This still could have been avoided if that idiot hadn’t been trying to cowboy his way into some brownie points.” 

She didn’t have to have the full context of what played out. She knew that Brandon was always trying to assert himself or showboat his way into getting some shine. During their relationship, it was a common complaint he confided in her; constant harping on what he could do to elevate the club and persistent conviction that he deserved an officer position someday. 

She wasn’t fully aware of SAMCRO’s dealings with the IRA, but she knew enough to surmise that there was a loaded history there. Jax so much as said it just now. And it looked like that rendered itself into blame. Blame that he was obviously shouldering. But there was always something that could go wrong, always the possibility that some former ally or enemy of SAMCRO or the Street Wolves could pop back up. The possibility was always silently hanging in the air, even with as smooth a transition as both clubs had had so far into the world of legitimacy.

Jax planted a forced smile on his face, “Thanks, darlin’.” 

She could see straight through him, but she accepted the squeeze of her arm that he gave. 

He muttered that he was going to go see Sweets before he left and walked to the upper level of the Garden. 

**********

Rev was the last one remaining in the room where Sweets rested after everyone else left to give him time to rest. He sat there quietly for a while, allowing silence to permeate the air, giving the sergeant-at-arms the quiet he needed to recuperate peacefully. He was getting ready to leave from his vigil when the door slid open and Jax made himself known.

Rev nodded his head encouragingly, allowing the SAMCRO president to enter. He gestured towards the chair next to him, the seats far away enough for them to talk quietly and not disturb Sweets’ sleep. 

“Shitty day..” Jax remarked as he sat down.

“Could’ve been a lot shittier,” Rev supplied, turning his gaze back to the wounded man. It would’ve only taken the bullet being off by some inches for this to be an entirely different conversation right now.

Jax nodded in agreement. 

There were a few moments of comfortable silence before Jax spoke again. 

“Listen… About Galen-”

He felt responsible. After everything that happened with Clay and Tig, he took his mind off of taking down Galen O’ Shay. He figured things would be settled after he handed off his arms dealing to the Mayans. The rest of the Kings seemed satisfied that they still had their reach on the West Coast, and last he heard, they were even expanding to south of the border, as well. It was O’Shay who was still holding a vendetta against SAMCRO to the point that he bombed their T.M. clubhouse and got himself banished from the Kings syndicate. Instead of anticipating more revenge coming from the begrudged man, he allowed the situation to be a loose end in order to focus on going legit. Now, depending on what lies ahead, this could jeopardize everything they were working towards.

Almost sensing the burden of blame and responsibility Jax had lied on his shoulders, Rev interrupted him.

“You told us straight up, everything that transpired between SAMCRO and O’ Shay. And we still went into this business together. You came to a deal with the Kings that they agreed on. And that motherfucker was supposed to be persona non grata after he got kicked to the curb. We had no indication that he was just gonna come up out of the blue and try to stir shit up. Or that Brandon’s clown ass would be the in that Galen needed.”

Rev put a comforting hand on his shoulder before continuing, “I don’t need you blaming yourself, man. If anything, there’s enough to place on both clubs. Right now, though? We need all of us to be putting our heads together to figure out what this motherfucker’s deal is, and how to take him down before he ruins everything before we even get started.”

The Street Wolves VP stood from his chair and went to bend down on one knee at the bed, saying a short prayer for Sweets.

He got up and swiped a final glance at Jax before leaving the room, “A bend in the road isn’t the end of the road.” 

Out in the hall, Rev heard an insistent scrubbing noise coming from one of the other dorm rooms. He followed the sound until he reached one of the ensuite bathrooms where he found Brandon on his hands and knees, cleaning the tiles. He only stood there for a second before his presence was noted.

Brandon looked up, contempt in his eyes, “Gil send you to check up on me?”

Rev said nothing, only taking in the new-forming bruises and gashes on Brandon’s face as the man huffed and focused back on the tiles. The young man’s patience was wearing thin, though, so he looked back up and snapped, “Did you need something?!” 

His VP took a measured breath because he didn’t come in here with the intention of adding more physical trauma to the man’s battered form.

“I came here to speak with you, brother to brother, because I need you to understand what happened today,” Rev started. Brandon huffed again, but he dropped the toothbrush and stood so that he was level with him.

“Going off on your own, trying to make shit happen without the knowledge of your brothers… That’s what nearly got Sweets killed today. I get it, you’re trying to get back in Gil’s good graces, you’re trying to earn your keep-”

“If you get it, then why am I still getting my ass handed to me right now?” Brandon interrupted, unable to stop himself. 

“Because anybody would have!” Rev’s voice boomed uncharacteristically. “You think you didn’t deserve this shit?!” He mushed at Brandon’s face and pushed it towards the mirror so that he could see the damage patterning across his features. “Sweets could’ve died!”

“But he didn’t!” Brandon implanted. 

“And what if he did?! You’re acting like today couldn’t have gone any worse, what if Gil got shot? What if I got shot? Any of us?! Do you even fucking care?! We were sitting ducks and that shit could’ve easily been a blood bath, but all you fucking care about is that you’re rightfully suffering the consequences! It’s like that apology meant fucking nothing!”

Rev thought back to that heart to heart he and Brandon had just the other day and wondered whether it was all bullshit.

“Rev-”

This time, Brandon was the one interrupted, “You’re so full of shit. Your first response when Jax confronted you about this shit was making fucking excuses. And now you don’t care that you went behind the club’s back, you care that you got caught and called out. Your ego is gonna be the fucking death of someone, whether it’s you or someone else. You got lucky today and you’re still only focused on yourself, and not your own fucking brother.” Rev looked at him with disgust, “I don’t know how we’re even supposed to trust you, B.” 

“I make one bad move and that’s it?? All your trust is gone? What, you’re gonna tell Gil to bench me?”

Rev looked on at him, registering none of the friendship and brotherhood that was supposed to exist between them, “I’m telling him that I’m keeping a closer eye on you and that you don’t move until I say otherwise.” He shook his head at himself, knowing that some of the blame lied on him too, for not looping Gil in on the fact that Brandon was seeking outside partnership for the club, “Get your fucking act together, Brandon. I can’t be more worried about making sure you’re not fucking up than I am about making sure we’re all safe and our plans don’t get derailed. That’s dangerous for all of us…”

Brandon’s face was hard, but he nodded, knowing that there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t bite him back on the ass. With another disappointed shake of his head yet not another word, Rev left the room. Brandon waited until he could hear the VP’s receding footsteps no more before he released all of his anger, knocking over the bucket of mop water and punching the mirror.

**************

“Kinda light crowd in here tonight.” McKenzie remarked. She and Sairah were on one of their regular milkshake dates at the diner in town. 

Sairah looked around, “Just how I like it.”

McKenzie chuckled and then smiled in thanks at the waitress who brought them their blueberry cheesecake shakes. 

“So, I’ve been kind of slacking on the apartment search, I know. I’ll probably start looking online this weekend, it’s not like there’s a lot of rentals here in Highwater.”

Sairah waved her off, “Stay as long as you need. It’s home for as long as you want it to be.” 

The older Gilbert sister smiled again in appreciation. She expected the response, but she still didn’t want to get complacent in not finding a place for herself and moving out. Being one of the lucky ones who enjoyed her career, Sairah often took her work home with her. The small house was filled with small projects of architectural design that the young woman had worked on all by herself. She had bought the property about a year ago and was taking her time, enjoying making the fixer-upper her own. 

McKenzie didn’t want to intrude on her space and so made it a goal of hers to eventually look around Highwater for somewhere of her own. 

It also wouldn’t hurt that it’d be easier to sneak around with Jax at her own place, but that was more of an afterthought than anything. Though, it had come to the forefront of her mind more than once this past week. She looked down at her phone and shook her head to herself. She could at least have some restraint while on her sisterly outing.

She looked up to see that Sairah was on her own phone, texting out a message longer than her usual short responses.

“Rev?” 

An educated guess, but a correct one.

Sairah looked up, “Yeah, just wanted to check on him. Make sure he hasn’t rammed Brandon’s head into a wall, though I would buy him a brand new bike of his choosing if he, in fact, did so.”

McKenzie leaned over in laughter, knowing her sister would never miss an opportunity to take a jibe at her ex-fiancé. 

“I’m sure dad has reamed his ass out good enough for the both of them.”

Sairah hummed, “It’ll never be enough when it comes to his bitch ass,” she took a pause though and looked more thoughtful, “Rev seems to be taking it hard though, so they probably exchanged words.”

“Not surprised.”

If there was anyone that Brandon was closest to in the club, it would, of course, be to the man that sponsored him. Whether the responsibility lied on him or not, Rev couldn’t help but feel hurt and betrayed from Brandon’s actions.

“Maybe he’ll finally learn to stop doing stupid shit, considering someone could’ve been killed today.”

“Knowing him, he probably thought he was doing the right thing.”

Sairah paused her milkshake slurping to give McKenzie a pointed stare.

“What?” Confusion filled her words. “You agree with him going behind dad’s back?”

McKenzie shook her head and frowned, “No, I hope he got his head chewed off. But I think, in his own misdirected way, he was just trying to do the right thing.” There were moments, maybe when no one else could, she could see his convoluted way of trying to help. Maybe this was one of those times or maybe another misconception of the good she thought she first saw when they began their relationship. She recalled these kinds of moments from the past five years and wonders how many times she was right about his intentions and how many times he had only put up a facade that she had no ability to see through.

“You okay, Kenz?”

She flashed a weak smile and replied, “Yeah. Today’s just been a long day.” 

Sairah nodded in understanding and stood up with her purse, “I’ll go settle up.” 

McKenzie glanced at her phone and sighed. Shit. She had zero self-restraint. Without even allowing her mind to convince her out of the thought, she picked up the phone and opened the text thread she shared with Jax. 

To Jax: “Home yet?” -Sent at 8:55 p.m.

Less than thirty seconds pass.

From Jax: “ 🥺 Is princess missing me?” -Sent at 8:55 p.m.

She giggled loudly, not expecting to see the SAMCRO president ever use an emoji. Sairah looked up from the register with a bewildered look that McKenzie waved off with a mouthed “Tik tok video.”

To Jax: “I’m princess now?” -Sent at 8:56 p.m.

To Jax: “Btw didn’t even know you knew what emojis were 😭” -Sent at 8:56 p.m.

From Jax: Sure I do! There’s even a 😡 next to your name in my contacts” -Sent at 8:56 p.m.

To Jax:“Why the 😡?!” -Sent at 8:57 p.m.

From Jax: “You’re very mean to me 😂. I’m thinking brat might be a better name than princess…” -Sent at 8:57 p.m.

To Jax:“I can dig it 😏” -Sent at 8:57 p.m.

From Jax: “Get to my place in 20, let’s see how reckless that mouth gets in person”  -Sent at 8:58 p.m.

Sairah was back from the register and had been standing impatiently for about two minutes before she finally drew McKenzie’s attention with a dramatic sigh. 

“Ok, either you and Evie are talking shit about someone or you’re about to go get slutted out. Which is it?” 

Slutted out.

**********

Jax had opened the front door before McKenzie even made it up the two steps up onto his porch. 

“Eager much?” She shot at him with a smirk, much like the way he did during their New Year’s night. 

His eyes darkened at the jab, but also at the fact that she was wearing a dress. He had only seen her for the first time in a dress at the New Year’s party and on this second occasion, he had only just now come to the conclusion that he really liked her in dresses. He watched the material sway against her legs as she walked past him and ambled into the living room.

When he followed her in, he saw that she was sitting on the couch and her eyes had softened. She didn’t say anything, she hadn’t wanted to bring up how Jax was obviously blaming himself for Sweets getting shot. But she also didn’t want this to go further without knowing he was in somewhat of a better mood. 

Jax seemed to pick up on all of that, her internal dilemma, without words needing to be exchanged. 

He shook his head in a mellow dismissal.

It is what it is. 

Another set of words that didn’t need to be said because they were understood completely. 

Instead of letting unease circle the air, he roamed his eyes over her frame again, admiring everything he saw.

“You look pretty tonight.”

She had also taken out her twists and he pulled back a curly lock as she smiled bashfully at the compliment. 

“Just felt like switching it up. Me and Lisa went for a little retail therapy the other day and I decided to freshen up my wardrobe. Though, remind me to never buy a strappy heel ever again because I feel like my feet are gonna fall off from the cut off circulation.”

Jax chuckled and lifted her feet into his lap. He slowly unwound the high heels from her feet and massaged them firmly once free. She watched him through it all in amusement, but also a bit of wonderment.

At his curious simper, she remarked, “Oh, I just love how you told me to come over for an explicit booty call, but now we’re relaxing, fully clothed, on your couch with you rubbing my feet.” 

Laughter filled the living room as they enjoyed the joke, but his hands began to slowly creep up her leg.

“Trust me, princess, I definitely meant what I said about that mouth getting you into trouble one of these days.”

His lips chased after his hands, pebbling sweet and light kisses from her ankles all the way up to her thighs. A heated path that eventually had her lying down flat on the couch and his hands grasping her hips. His lips were everywhere, but still not exactly where she wanted him. Feather light pecks in the crease of her hip. His tongue trailing slightly along her skin. His teeth nipping at her black lace panties. 

“Jax, hurry the fuck up.” She finally let out in a rough whisper, not able to bear his silent taunting for much longer.

His eyes darkened, “What did I tell you, darlin’?” 

Still though, he obliged by finally sliding down her panties. Even opted to send zaps of pleasure her way by licking at her sensitive bundle of nerves. Played nice to lull her into the false security that she would be in charge tonight.

He lapped and lapped and lapped. Alternated in a frenzied rhythm between sucking on her clit and entering her with his tongue. Purposely avoiding any kind of pattern and working hard to elicit louder moans and mewls from her.

He honed in on the way that her hips were writhing, riding his face. Her hands didn’t know where to go, oscillating between grabbing onto his hair and holding onto the couch. Her pussy throbbed desperately, searching for its peak, and an instant right before he felt like she had found it…

He removed his mouth entirely from her and sat up.

The  desperate yelp was met with an unforgiving smirk.

“Something you need, babe?”

“Fuck you.” 

“Wrong answer,” he shot back without missing a beat. His hands slipped up her thighs and hips again, but yet again, detoured away from where she wanted him. His fingers danced along her landing strip and she watched him watch her clench around nothing.

“Jax.” She whimpered his name.

“Aww, poor baby..” He mocked her and placed a light kiss on her lips. And then said, “We’re gonna start that all over again and this time, you’re gonna mind your fucking manners.”

Fire rose behind her eyes and her desperation flipped into a frown. She nearly growled at him until…

She inhaled a loud gasp at the sudden sensation of stinging pleasure. She closed her eyes in ecstasy at the feeling of him rubbing where he had just slapped. The shock of him slapping her pussy coupled with the surprise of just how much she liked it sent unadulterated delectation through her veins. 

“Look at me.”

She obeyed.

The fire hadn’t necessarily left her eyes, it had just transformed from indignation to passion and anticipation. He nipped at her neck and she mewled for more. 

He began to repeat himself, “We’re gonna start this all over again.” His hands pulled for the hem of her dress and pulled it off of her. “You’re gonna mind your manners and watch your fuckin’ mouth, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

He had already begun to nod for her, but she nodded with him in dire agreement. Tears from pleasure began to gather in her eyes as he swirled his tongue around one of her nipples and rolled the other in between his fingers. 

“Because you wanna cum, don’t ya?”

She hummed, barely able to muster the control to do even that.

“Say it.” 

McKenzie looked at him in earnest.

“I want to cum.” 

His eyebrow lifted.

“Please. I want to cum please.” 

He continued his kisses lower and lower. 

And she continued her begging, “Please. Please. Please.”

************

McKenzie slid her floral a-line dress back on and moved to find where Jax had tossed her heels. 

“You heading home?” He asked as he reappeared from the hallway, wearing only a pair of sweats. A triumphant smile remained painted on his face at the fully sated woman in his living room. After leaving her a shaking mess with only his tongue and fingers, he had asked her what position she wanted. And then, turned right around and forced her to ask for him to put her in said position. There’d be hand-shaped bruises flowering her hips pretty soon from the way he gripped her as she bounced in his lap until they hit their peaks together. 

McKenzie nodded in answer to his question, with a lazy smile, as she sat down on the couch to don the white strappy shoes.

There was a thick silence in the air and she peeked over into the kitchen to see that it was past midnight. She wasn’t sure what caused the sudden shift in the room, but she figured she needed to go ahead and get home. If she could even walk to get to her car. 

Jax sat opposite to her on the coffee table and looked up with sincerity in his eyes.

“I- uh… I wanted to thank you for earlier today.,” McKenzie’s eyes dipped in confusion, “When you were trying to comfort me about Sweets.”

She merely smiled and reached for his hand.

“I’ve been the guy who takes on all the blame before. And this wasn’t all on me. I accept that. I gotta get comfortable with the idea that not everything bad that happens around me lies solely on me. But no matter what two ways you cut it, this still could’ve been avoided had I done a better job tying up Galen as a loose end,” she squeezed his hand in comfort and he returned her smile, “but moping about it isn’t gonna turn back time…”

“No,” she agreed, “But don’t feel like you have to hole it all up either. Go figure out how to get things back on track and where to go from here. …But if you ever need someone to confide in- or someone to take your frustrations out on in bed…” she cracked with a grin, “I’m your girl.”

He mirrored her with his own grin and held onto her hand as she stood, “You’re my girl,” he muttered.

“I’m gonna go,” she placed a goodbye kiss on his lips. 

He returned in fervor and placed a final kiss on the back of her hand as he walked her to the door.

Without another word, she walked out and got into her car. He watched at the door until she was backing out of the driveway and driving away from Charming and back into Highwater.

***************

Brandon sat, still steaming, in a random pub in Charming. After leaving the Garden, he needed to be somewhere far away from everything and everyone that infuriated him. He couldn’t go too far to find an open bar when it was already past 1 a.m. when he had finally finished cleaning the entire facility. Thus, he settled for the small municipality only a couple of towns over. Highwater was only ever filled with people he’d known his entire life. He supposed the same was probably true for the people who lived here in Charming, but it was as foreign as Paris or Rio to him. 

It didn’t matter that he was out of Highwater or that he was five, going on six drinks into the tank. 

He was still pissed and the distance and alcohol had only dampened his anger. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be fully extinguished anytime soon. It infuriated him to no end that he had taken initiative for the betterment of this club, for his brothers, and it landed him on bad terms with his president and VP. He didn’t fucking shoot Sweets and he was in just as much danger of getting hit. Like everyone was. And no matter what Gil or Rev said, they would’ve never laid into any of the other Street Wolves like that if they were in his predicament. Brandon was sure of it.

It ripped him up that they couldn’t even see that he was trying to be a leader. Trying to make moves. It should’ve been obvious that he didn’t want anything like the shootout to have transpired. 

“Well, if it isn’t Deputy Unser!”

Brandon looked up and immediately tensed at the sound of a cop being in his presence. 

The older man shook hands with the bartender and took a seat only halfway down the bar from Brandon. He wasn’t wearing his sheriff’s uniform and he looked down, looking disappointed with himself as he accepted the bourbon from the tender.

“Rough day, chief?”

“Yeah, that drive down to the women’s prison is even worse than to Stockton,” he groaned, his bones already weary in age, even without his routine, round trip visits to the Central California Women's Facility. 

The bartender chuckled, “Well, then stop making the drive. Make one of your deputies haul the prisoners back and forth, you should be on a fast ticket to retirement any day now, anyway.”

Unser winced and knocked his drink back, “Actually, the drives are more of a personal errand than for work..” he hesitated but continued on with another pour from the tender. He had no reason to assume that anyone would want to eavesdrop on an old man drinking what little was left of his cancer-riddled liver. “Gemma Teller’s down there now, you know. After everything that happened..”

Brandon was just about to lower his own senses and go back to minding his own mess when he heard the name “Teller.” 

The bartender had shuddered, “Gemma was always nice to me. A firecracker, sure, but she always asked about my sons and invited my wife into her book club. Can’t believe she gets to spend the rest of her life behind bars and that rotten son of hers prances in and out of town like he’s not as much of a monster as his stepdaddy.”

Unser looked on in bitterness but shook his head at the bartender.

But the tender didn’t back down from his indignance, “No, he’s been lettin’ his mama rot for damn near a year and you mean to tell me you or not even the goddamn ATF could hook the Sons on some charges?” The man poured Unser some more brown liquor and wiped the counters, still shaking his head in disgust, “And then he goes and leaves his pregnant wife… Abandons his unborn child, sticks his stepdaddy in prison, sticks his mother, his blood, into Chowchilla. It’s a wonder his bike brothers still trust him, son of a bitch ain’t loyal to fuckin’ nothin!”

The bartender’s droning rant faded into the recesses of Brandon’s mind as he absorbed the information that had just been divulged to him. All that shit he had to hear about loyalty, basically being told to put up or shut up. And then Rev had had the nerve to bring up Jax during their earlier confrontation, about how Jax was right, that all Brandon had done was make excuses.

Well shit, what kind of excuses did the SAMCRO president have for what he had just learned? Did his own brothers know how cold-blooded he was?

Jax had come into the Garden acting all high and mighty, like he was doing the Street Wolves a favor by partnering up with them. And everyone had just gone along with it. Maybe Gil had no idea the kind of man he had gotten the Street Wolves mixed up with.

But he was about to.

A/N: There’s always two sides to every story? 👀 I know it’s been a minute since I updated, but I’m sooo happy to put this chapter out. I’m hoping the 10k+ word count somewhat makes up for the hiatus lol. Pleaseee let me know what you think. As always, reblog if you enjoyed and share the love