#scorned

The television was on, but her mind was not focused on the film she’d absentmindedly turned the channel to. Her mind was too focused on one person in particular.

It was late, far past midnight now, and her boyfriend was still out taking care of urgent club business assisting some brothers who had ridden in from the Reno, Nevada charter quite early this morning, right around sunrise.

She stared down at the cup of green tea in her hands, her mind a muddled mess as she recalled the phone conversations she’d had with her boyfriend earlier in the day.

Y/N had held the phone up to her ear, her stomach forming tight knots as she listened to Chibs Telford’s voice on the other end of the line. “We might have to take a rain check on dinner plans, Love. Some shite came up, Reno club rode in this morning and I’m needed here.”

She cringed the words escaping her lips before she could stop them. “I’m guessing this visit from Reno isn’t a social call?”

“Aye, not quite.” Chibs replied, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

She leaned back against the service counter in her antique shop, her eyes cutting across her salesfloor knowing that the store was dead. She was the only one here to witness this conversation. She was free to be blunt. “What’s going on, Filip? Do I need to be worried?”

She felt her stomach knot up all the tighter at the response she received. “Nah, no need to worry, Sweetheart. Reno jus’ needs SAMCRO’s assistance trackin down a missing brother. Dumb fuck disappeared with a big chunk of cash belonging to the club. His brothers aren’t too happy with him at the moment and they need SAMCRO’s help trackin him down. It’s jus club protocol, they’re in our town so we have to help out.”

Y/N felt bile rise in the back of her throat, a voice in the back of her head taunting her about just what the MC planned to do with this missing brother once they tracked him down. “What makes them think he’s around here? Wouldn’t hiding out so close to the mother charter be a dumb move?”

“Aye it is a dumb move, but so is stealin from yer brothers.” Chibs commented, Y/N rolling her eyes in response, she hated that he had a point.

Chibs spoke again, not shying away from giving her more details. “Reno’s club Pres thinks their missin brother has some ex-girlfriend out in Lodi. He mighta run to her, or at least she might have an idea of where he’s hiding.”

Y/N felt a slight weak smirk cross her lips, unable to stop herself from saying it. “Guess you better hope she’s one pissed off ex if she’s willing to give up where he is.”

“Aye, that’s what we're hopin fer. Don’t wait up fer me tonight, Love. Don’t know how late I’ll be comin to yer place.” was the reply she was given. She was unable to stop herself from speaking the anxiety evident in her voice.

“You promise you’ll be careful, Filip?”

He was so fast to speak up, reassuring her. “Aye, I’ll be jus fine, Love. Don’t ye worry bout me. I’ll be safe. I’m always safe m’love.”

He was quick to speak again clearly trying to get her mind off of worrying for his security “Ye should do somethin fun tonight. Go out with Venus and Brooke, have a girls night, aye. Our dinner plans’ll have to move to next weekend.” 

Y/N had tried to follow Chibs’ suggestion of having a fun night.

She had gone out with Venus and Brooke and gotten her nails done choosing a metallic silver that she had found pretty for her fingernails and a pale blue for her toenails. She’d gone out to dinner with the girls enjoying sugary cocktails and sushi.

She could not shake the sense of dread that had settled down into her gut though the emotion feeling like an unwelcome house guest.

Y/N could not shake the worry for the man she loved despite his reassurances that he would be safe.

She had to imagine that this Reno brother SAMCRO was helping to track down was desperate and afraid. Fear and desperation made people stupid. Stupid people were dangerous especially if they had nothing to lose.

Another emotion had joined along with the worry, the emotion feeling like another unwelcome guest. It was an emotion she had a difficult time explaining.

It felt like a sense of apprehension or fear. It was an unshakable sense of unease. 

If she was truly going to psychoanalyze herself she might conclude that perhaps she was having a difficult time coming to terms with the knowledge that the man she loved was most likely out doing something quite violent tonight.

She hated to admit that it was difficult to reconcile that the man she loved had a side to him that was capable of such brutality.

Chibs Telford had never lied to her about what he was capable of. At least she could say that when she’d worked up the nerve to ask more questions about SAMCRO that he’d never been dishonest about who and what he was. Chibs had been honest with her when it came to the cold hard truth about acts he had committed both for the cause in Belfast and the MC both in Ireland and in California.

He had told her that it was only fair that she understood the harsh reality of what he was. He had chosen this path for his life a long time ago and anyone who wanted to be by his side had to understand that there was no leaving this life for him. 

Chibs had told her that there were only two paths an ol lady could take when it came to the club.

One path would involve her knowing nothing. She could choose to be locked away from the truth of what acts her man might have to do for the club. She could live on the outside of the Club not having any questions answered. She would have to learn to accept white lies and keep content with not knowing the truth of the reality she lived in. 

The other path involved knowing everything. It was a path where there were no secrets; only the cold hard truth no matter how disturbing that truth might be. This path would not be an easy one. It would mean having to accept the horrors and heartaches of this life. This path would involve having the truth but knowing that this truth could feel awful at times.

Chibs had warned her that the path of knowing nothing usually was a recipe for disaster. Being kept in the dark about the club would more than likely just build up mistrust which would lead to resentment. Living a comforting lie was no way to build a lasting relationship. This path would mean that she would always have questions knowing she would never know the true answers. 

Chibs had been around long enough to see what happened to ol ladies who chose to remain in the dark about the club. Ol ladies who choose to stay on the outside, when it came to to club, usually always were left feeling distant from their partners. Eventually the burden of carrying the life and living a lie would break the Son. The distance between a Son and his ol lady created a sense of bitterness and the relationship crumbled.

Being kept in the dark when it came to the club was a sure fire way to have a relationship fail. 

Taking a path of total full disclosure might not be a pleasant path to take, but Chibs had told her that from what he’d seen, it was the only path he was willing to take with her.

He knew that ol ladies who knew the truth could crumble under that truth, but he was willing to fight as hard as he could to keep Y/N from breaking under his reality. 

Y/N had agreed to know everything no matter how horrible it might be. She had decided to ignore every reservation she had about just what Chibs Telford may have done in the past and what he might do in the future, and trust him.

She hated to admit that it felt difficult to wrap her brain around the knowledge that the man she loved so dearly was capable of terrible things.

When she thought of Chibs Telford her mind did not automatically turn to brutality.

She thought of the man who had spoken so sweetly and fondly of his daughter upon the first interaction Y/N had ever had with him.

She thought of Chibs Telford as being the man who had so carefully selected a pretty purple bracelet for his daughter. She thought of a wonderful man who had been such a doting loving father when Kerrianne had come to visit Charming months before. 

Y/N thought of the surprisingly romantic man who brought Y/N gorgeous orange marigolds because he remembered that they were her absolute favorite flower. She thought of how Chibs would never tell her exactly how he managed to get the flowers to her on his bike without them getting wrecked, only giving her a cheeky smile and insisting that it was his little secret.

She thought of the caring and sympathetic man who had so gently listened to her open up about her past with her ex husband and had so sweetly promised that she would never have a thing to fear again.

She thought of the thoughtful man who brought her cups of tea in the mornings. She thought of how Chibs so lovingly made her a rich mutton, carrot, and barley stew when she was feeling under the weather, insisting it was his mother’s own recipe and would cure any ailment. She thought of the man who drew her baths after she spent the day doing inventory in her shop.

She thought of how Chibs rolled the perfect joint and taught her to throw darts. She thought of the man who took her on long rides on his bike. She thought of the man who had kissed her so softly and gently after their first date. She thought of how Chibs had seemed almost shy the first time he’d asked her on a proper date that night on the roof of the clubhouse. She thought of the man who looked at her with such adoration and worship the very first time they’d made love.

She found it so strange to consider the man who she thought of with such adoration was capable of horrible acts.

The man who kissed her so sweetly was capable of causing harm if the need called for such acts. Intimidating and at times brutal President Filip Chibs Telford and her sweet and caring boyfriend Filip Chibs Telford were the same man.

It was not as though some dark spirit washed over Chibs when he committed horrible acts for the club. This was part of who he was. 

She knew deep down that Chibs Telford was capable of savage acts, just as he was capable of acts of love.

It was a harsh reality she knew she had to accept. Human beings were multifaceted. No one was 100 percent good nor bad. 

A tiny part of her had to contemplate if there was something deeply wrong with her to be so willing to love a man who was capable of horrible acts though.

A cruel voice in the back of her mind taunted her that her ex husband had truly done a number on her if she found love with a man who was willing to be King of the local outlaw bikers.

A softer gentler voice seemed to speak a little louder than that cruel voice though. This voice told her that while Chibs might not be innocent, that he loved her. In fact she was certain Chibs Telford loved her more than any man had ever loved her. There were times where she was almost certain that he loved her more than any man had loved a woman, though she told herself that the thought was probably egocentric and childish. 

This kinder voice also told her that she had not felt this happy in her entire life, at least not since she was quite young, back when her parents were still alive and the world still seemed so kind and trusting.

Life had shown her that the world was not kind, but Chibs Telford made her at least feel as though she had a chance at finding some joy in the cruel world.

She knew that the only way to possibly maintain her sanity was to be willing to choose love over fear when it came to living in Chibs’ world.

A sense of relief washed over her exhausted mind as she heard the distinct sound of a key turning in the lock of her front door. There were only two people who had spare keys to her apartment and Y/N highly doubted Venus Van Dam was letting herself into Y/N’s apartment this late unannounced.

The door creaked open, the man she’d been wide awake and lost in thought over entering the room.

His tired eyes gazed upon her a tight smile crossing his features that she noted did not quite reach his eyes. “M’love, ye didn’t have to wait up fer me. I told ye not to.”

“And you should know me well enough to know I don’t listen.” She managed to reply as she stood up from the sofa, hoping any strain was not evident in her voice.

She felt her stomach turn as she took notice of a bruise forming around his right eye, a sign of an impending black eye. She did not have time to question the injury as Chibs spoke up. “I’m sorry I left ye waitin up so late.”

“It’s fine, I can never sleep when you aren’t there.” She admitted biting back questions about the source of the blackened eye forming across his features. She had a feeling she’d know the full story at some point. There were no secrets between them. 

“Let me get cleaned up, love. Ye settle down in bed, aye.” He responded, pressing a quick peck to her temple as he passed by.

She poured her now cool tea down the kitchen sink before locking the front door and obediently making her way to her bedroom.

She did not find herself settling down entirely; she able to hear the shower in her small bathroom running the noise clear even down the hallway.

She laid back in bed, her mind too awake to truly settle into sleep.

Chibs’ shower did not last too long; it was clear he was eager to get to bed after the long day he’d had.

She watched as he entered her room, dumping his clothing and damp towel in the laundry basket before slipping on a fresh pair of boxers.

He settled down into bed beside her, the words she wanted to say all getting tangled up in her throat.

She took notice of his knuckles spotting signs of bruising the skin clearly cracked and scabbed over in a few places. She felt the words escape her lips as she reached out her hand brushing over his cringing at the slight hiss that left him. “Oh, Filip.”

“It looks worse than it is.” He attempted to reassure her.

“Hold on a moment.” She was fast to reply, getting up from bed before he had a chance to stop her.

She returned a few moments later with a tube of neosporin and an ice pack wrapped in a washcloth.

He sighed but did not protest as she treated the cuts with disinfectant ointment and pressed the ice pack to his knuckles knowing she would need to alternate it between his hands to keep the swelling down. 

She felt the words leave her knowing she was getting her full disclosure out of him. “What the hell happened?”

“Ran into a wee bit of trouble, nothin to worry over. We found the lad and he had a few friends to back him up but we managed. If ye think I look rough ye should see the other lads.” He attempted to soothe her a weak smile crossing his features.

“Not funny. It looks like something to worry over.” She remarked rolling her eyes ever so slightly as she kept the ice pack pressed to his hands.

Chibs shook his head he fast to reassure her. “I’ve been hit before m’love. Had far worse injuries than this.”

She let out a soft sigh having very little doubt about that. She took a deep breath working up her nerve to ask. “I’m guessing everything turned out?”

“Aye, Happy is assistin’ Reno in takin care of shite.” Chibs remarked keeping the answer vague; it was clear he was not entirely willing to go into too much detail. He had the feeling she was smart enough to fill in the blanks without him saying the words.

Happy’s involvement in helping Reno was enough of a hint into how Reno had taken care of their problem.

Y/N felt her stomach turn, proving Chibs right that she was smart enough to fill in the blanks. She sighed once again debating if there was something deeply wrong with her given that she had no desire to bolt from this bed and this man upon knowing what she knew.

She pushed the thought from her mind knowing she would drive herself insane if she psychoanalyzed every reaction she had to the harsh realities of the life the man she had fallen in love with led. 

She was smart enough to know that while SAMCRO tried to mostly stay on the right side of the law these days, that this was still the nature of the world they lived in. 

She had chosen to take on this life when she’d fallen for Chibs. She had to learn to roll with the punches. 

She hated to admit that she was relieved as Chibs changed the subject somewhat away from what Happy may or may not be doing at this moment. “Sorry I had to cancel on our dinner plans, Love.”

“It’s fine, it couldn’t be helped.” She reassured him doing her best to give him a soft smile trying not to cringe at the bruise along his features as she debated pressing the ice pack there as well.

“Aye, I know, but I also know this a hard time of the year fer ye.” Chibs provided the comment making her heart ache with adoration for him as it hit her just what he was hinting at.

She took a deep breath knowing that she was nearing the second anniversary of her grandfather’s death. 

Y/N had always held the silent opinion that her family history was filled with tragedy on both parents sides.

On her father’s side the first death had been her father’s twin brother who had been hit by a drunk driver and killed on his bicycle when he was twelve. The year after that her father’s mother had taken her own life not able to cope with her child’s death and unable to see that she was leaving one other child and a husband behind. Her father’s father had thrown himself into work and Y/N’s father had thrown himself into photography.

Her father had not known happiness until he’d met her mother.

The loss of his brother had hit him hard and he'd carried that grief with him. Y/N could remember her father commenting that had she been born a boy she would have been named Edward for the dead uncle she had never met.

Her father had turned his grief to his photography chasing adventure as a way to cope with loss.

Her mother had shown him that there was more to life than running from grief.

Marion Y/L/N came from pain as well. Her mother had died in childbirth but unlike her husband’s father, her own father had been loving and attentive. She had been positive and optimistic enough to brighten her husband's life.

Y/N was sure when her father had met her mother that they had thought that the future was bright. They had never envisioned that death would find them.

Their own death had been tragic and sudden leaving Y/N an orphan taken in by a grieving but loving grandfather.

Her grandfather had been all she’d had and she was all he’d had. This fact just made her feel worse when she thought of how he’d died alone.

She pushed back the sense of grief dancing around in her chest. “I know I've said it a million times before, but I still feel awful for not going home for the funeral.”

Chibs pressed a hand against her cheek caressing the side of her face quick to offer her reassurance. “I think he’d understand why ye couldn’t go home, Love. Yer safety was more important to him than ye goin' to that funeral. He's somewhere far past that, Love. I firmly believe that.”

She let out a shaky sigh remembering the words she’d said to Chibs to explain exactly why she couldn’t go home for her grandfather’s funeral.

Going home would mean being in the same little town as her ex husband. Being in the same little town as her ex husband was too terrifying to comprehend. She was certain that if she ever stepped foot in her hometown again then she would never leave alive. Ezra would make sure she was his again or he would kill her so that she never left him again.

“I know he’d understand and that almost makes it worse. I mean, I keep thinking about the fact that I was all he had. I feel like I owed him showing up for his funeral, but I stayed hidden away like a coward after everything he did for me when he was alive.” She admitted hating the tears that had begun to pool up behind her eyelids she closing her eyes attempting to stop them.

Chibs wiped at a few stray tears that managed to sneak their ways past her eyelids he fast to respond to her. “I think he loved ye enough to know it was safer fer ye to stay away. I don’t think he woulda viewed ye owing him a thing, Love. He did what he did fer ye because he loved ye.”

She opened her eyes a shaky breath leaving her she unable to stop herself from leaning into his caress. “He really did love me. I think I kind of resented it when I was younger…that’s part of why I married Ezra, I felt smothered by my grandfather. He clung on to me so desperately after my parents died. I didn’t understand some of the choices he made were really meant to protect me, not until I worked up the nerve to leave Ezra.”

She swallowed back the words knowing that Chibs already knew the entire story.

She spoke again, a tight smile crossing her features. “My grandfather was a good man, one of the best men I ever knew. He didn’t have a greedy or selfish bone in his body. I can’t think of many people who would look at that much money and not be tempted to even take one cent.”

She cleared her throat, always feeling awkward at the mention of her fortune.

She hated even thinking of it as a fortune.

She’d resented people’s reaction to finding out about her massive trust fund. In her opinion, no one ever considered just why she had millions to her name. She had always viewed it as blood money.

Her parents' life insurance policies had shelled out more than enough money to last her a lifetime. 

Her grandfather had only added to that fortune when he sued the manufacturer who had made one of the mechanical parts that had been in Y/N’s father’s plane. The part had been faulty and it had been argued that it had aided into just why her father had crashed his plane. Apparently it had been true and a settlement had been reached between the manufacturer and her grandfather.

Needless to say, Y/N’s trust fund had grown fat. She had enough money to her name to never have to work a day in her life. She had enough money for her children and her grandchildren to never have to work.

Her grandfather had touched not one cent of it. He’d set it up for his granddaughter so that she would be the only one allowed access to her money. He’d even forced Ezra to sign a prenup stating he’d have no access to it. It was Y/N’s money alone.

Her grandfather had raised her humbly. She’d worked in the greasy diner he’d owned. She’d been rolling silverware for as long as she could remember. She’d bussed tables and when she was old enough she’d been trusted to bring drinks to patrons and waitressed.

Her grandfather had not spoiled her despite her fortune. He’d taught her to work hard and live below her means.

She had been hesitant to share the information about her financial situation with Chibs almost certain he’d have the same reaction most people had.

To be honest, she’d realized that she truly did love him given what his reaction was.

He’d remarked that he imagined it must be difficult being without her parents, that fortune did not make up for what she’d lost.

He’d been able to voice what she had always felt; that she would much rather have her parents than even one cent to her name.

She felt her throat grow tight needing to say the words. “He’d probably have liked you.”

“Aye, ye sure bout that mo chiridhe? Ye don’t think he’d be unimpressed with me bein such an old bastard not to mention my less than stellar reputation? Ye don’t think he’d take a look at the company I keep and get ye away from me before I corrupt ye too much?” Chibs teased the comment at least working a laugh from her the sound feeling heavenly after the day he’d had.

She rolled her eyes giving his shoulder a nudge as she finally pulled back the ice pack from his hand placing it on the beside table. “Okay, well, he’d probably not be too psyched about either of those things. He’d like how you treat me at least”.

He managed to lean in his lips sliding along hers a small smirk crossing his features. “Aye, I treat ye how ye deserve, Love.”

He pulled his hand from her cheek running it along her side resting it against her hip as his lips continued to slide along hers.

He pulled back from the kiss his words soft against her lips. “Ye think I can show ye jus how I like treatin ye? Make up fer that canceled dinner date?”

She felt the giggle leave her lips as he coaxed her into his lap, she straddling his hips. “Oh, I think you can find a few ways to make it up to me.”

His lips slid across hers all thoughts of the awful day he’d had and the muddled mix of emotions she’d been wrestling with all night too far away to grasp.

She had a feeling that he’d definitely find a way to make amends for their canceled dinner date.

==================================

The tiny town of Stubbs Pass, Alaska was not much to look at. It was close enough to the coast to offer an industry rich with fishing. The Whitlock family had long operated the only canning operation in the town and had supplied the town with employment for a huge portion of the tiny population.

There were a few diners, a couple of tiny hotels that catered to the occasional tourist passing through on the way to one of the actual tourist destinations in the Great North, a tiny post office, one school that catered to elementary through high school, a few churches, and some small modest homes….aside from the Whitlock home which was impressive.

There were also a couple of bars. 

Tonight, young Officer Joseph Adams found himself nursing a beer at one of those bars.

Brown Moose Tavern was not the nicest establishment but it was loved by the locals. It was a good place to grab a cold one after a long day at Whitlock Cannery.

Joseph Adams found himself thinking back to the conversation he’d had with one Sheriff Althea Jarry a few weeks prior. 

He’d done his best to discreetly get in touch with a few people from Y/N Y/L/N’s past, encouraging them to give Jarry a call, but he was certain not many people had taken up the offer.

Most people around town didn’t care much to think about the past at least when it came to Y/N. Some of the local population thought of Y/N with pity remembering the tragedy of the loss of her parents at such a young age. Or they thought of her less favorably aware of her fortune, her troubled marriage to the heir of the town’s biggest employer, and her poor grandfather who had died alone without her.

It seemed that most people from Y/N’s past had no desire to bring up that past especially not with some sheriff from California.

Joseph had decided to pay a visit to the tavern hoping his older brother might be willing to at least humor him by reaching out to Sheriff Jarry. Gordon Adams had been in the same grade as Y/N after all, he’d been best friends with Ezra Whitlock. He had to at least have some memories that might be helpful.

Joseph cringed as Gordon let out a scoff followed by a belch, the man never having the best table manners. “Why do I give a shit?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” Joseph insisted, a frustrated groan leaving his lips.

Gordon rolled his eyes not above calling out his younger brother. “You mean it’s a great career boost for you?”

“It could be…but if this sheriff is right and Y/N is caught up in something…it would be right to help her any way you can.” Joseph offered cringing at the more selfish reasons he may have been agreeable to helping out Sheriff Jarry in her vendetta against the MC in her town.

If she was right then this might open the door for the authorities in Alaska to go after the Sons charter here. If Joseph was involved this early into the investigation then this might be his ticket into a larger force in a bigger town than Stubbs Pass.

Gordon parted his lips to reply but did not have a chance as someone else who was quite familiar with Y/N entered the bar.

Ezra Whitlock had always made Joseph feel uneasy. He was an attractive man, dark hair and eyes, a five o’clock shadow across a chiseled face, a nice jawline, a healthy complexion, and handsome enough in a blue collar good ol boy kind of way. He was physically fit and dedicated to the gym. He attracted plenty of attention from women. 

He was quite typical of most of the men who lived in Stubbs Pass, aside from the fact that he had long been considered the town’s golden boy. Everyone liked him and if you hated him you pretended to like him. 

His money bought plenty of popularity and respect in Stubbs Pass. 

There was something about him that made Joseph feel the slightest sense of unease though.

Perhaps it was just that Ezra had taken joy in giving Joseph such a hard time along with Gordon when Joseph was younger.

Gordon smirked, apparently seeing this as a good chance to once again give his little brother shit. “Ezra you won’t guess what Joey here thinks he’s got started?”

Ezra let out a huff sitting down in a bar stool and pulling out a wad of cash slapping it down on the bar. The bartender moved quick knowing not to leave Ezra waiting for his beer. “What?”

Gordon smirked all the more ignoring Joseph’s slight squirming in his seat. “He’s been talking to some hot shot Sheriff out in California, She thinks Joey here can help her out on her case?”

Ezra gave his companions a sideways glance raising a brow at this information. “What could he know that could help out some cop down in the lower 48?”

“Oh it’s who he could know.” Gordon replied, the smile growing all the more apparent on his features.

He paused for dramatic effect before speaking again, the information definitely catching Ezra’s attention. “Your ex wife.”

Ezra tightened his grip on his bottle, his words holding an edge that made something in Joseph’s stomach turn. “What does she have to do with this?”

Gordon spoke quick to repeat what Joseph had told him, making Joseph cringe. “Apparently she’s settled down in some little town out in California and hooked up with some big bad outlaw that this cop buddy of Joseph is wanting to bust. Joey here is trying to get his foot in on the investigation. Wants me to tell this cop what I know about Y/N. Can you believe that shit? I mean, I knew she had issues when she ran off and did what she did to you, but Christ.”

Ezra gritted his jaw at the comment.

To say he was still hung up on his ex might be an understatement. He knew it had been almost a decade now since the divorce, but he was still not pleased with how things had ended.

He could admit that from time to time he may have tried to track Y/N down. He’d scared off a few guys who had shown interest in her too. 

He could admit he was pissed that she’d left him. In fact he’d spent most of their marriage pissed off. It wasn’t his fault she pushed his buttons and made him lash out more often than not. 

It was her fault really; he resented her. She always did think she was better than him even when he was buying her beers back when she was a teenager. She always was convinced she was better than she was. She didn’t understand the pecking order in Stubbs Pass. 

Ezra hated that Y/N technically had more money than him, that was for sure. Her damned grandfather had forced his hand in signing that prenup insisting he’d not allow the marriage if Ezra refused. Y/N was stubborn enough to listen to the old bastard and Ezra had reasoned that it was in his best interest to play along.

He’d told himself that on paper she was at least a worthy wife of him. Her fortune meant she was desirable enough to marry into the Whitlock family. Her youth had made it easy for Ezra to feel as though he had the upper hand. He had made sure she knew how lucky she was that he’d chosen her. 

He resented that even after the marriage though that Y/N remained the wealthier spouse. He had made sure to remind her that he was the provider in their home. She couldn’t just be happy to sit at home and be the wife she was supposed to be though. She always had a big mouth and he found that she set off his temper.

She was not grateful for what he provided for her. 

Then she’d had the nerve to leave him over one little mistake. He hadn’t meant to hurt her as badly as he did and she had not been able to forgive what he had done. He had tried to win her back but then she’d had the nerve to divorce him.

That had set him off of course, and yes he’d reacted poorly. He could admit his temper had gotten the better of him. 

His parents had forced his hand in the divorce in the end. They told him to divorce the bitch or they were cutting him off. They cleaned up the mess he’d made in lashing out at her and his thank you to them had been to divorce his wife.

He had not divorced her on his terms. He loved her still as much as a man like him could love someone he guessed.

He felt like a child who’d had his toy taken from him. It wasn’t fair. 

He had become determined after that to make Y/N’s life hell or win her back.

He’d come close more than once, tracking her down and trying to romance her. He’d hoped that he could soften her heart and win her back.

He’d never loved another woman the way he loved her. He had not moved on from her despite the fact that women in Stubbs Pass threw themselves his way.

 Y/N was his and that was that. No other woman would satisfy him. 

He was sure that one day he’d win her back or make her pay for humiliating him by leaving him. No one left Ezra Whitlock or made a fool of him.

He took a deep breath pushing back his irritation telling himself that this was a golden opportunity. His ex wife had settled down in California and found some trouble it seemed.

Perhaps she had found herself in deep enough shit to have a wake up call and remember how good she’d had it with him.

He took a swig of his beer playing it cool as he spoke. “Pass on that number to me Joey. I bet I could tell this cop friend of yours a thing or two about my bitch of an ex wife.”

============

Silencing your comms, you pocket the scope and trudge up the snow. The snow boots they forced you to wear are clunky, something that would make sneaking around more difficult than it should be. It’s like they’re trying to kill you, which they most likely are.

Getting past the guards was too easy, quickly memorizing their patterns until you noticed an opening. Slipping through, the clunky boots are left behind and buried in the snow long before you enter. At least you were able to sneak in backups, much more lightweight and silent. Just the way you like it.

Your snake cam quickly slides underneath the door, confirming that it’s safe to enter. The door is unlocked… that’s the first strike. Your instincts tell you to get out of there, that the mission is already fucked, but you continue. Slipping in, you waste no time climbing to the rafters and place cameras. The unlocked door plagues your mind, something so small that KorTac would never allow to happen.

There are several exits you could use if your gut is right. A window, no, two windows and even a skylight, but even if you did manage to get out you would be stranded. The thought chills you to the bone. Was this a suicide mission? Would the ‘good guys’ really do that to you? Shaking the thought out of your head, you decide to save the last camera placement near the door. At least you’d be able to leave quickly.

Just as you place the second to last camera, the door opens. The cold air sends a chill down your spine, but the man you see walk in makes you freeze. He must be 7 feet tall. Fear finally settles in your bones. Hiding behind one of the metal beams, you shift out of his eyeline and regulate your breathing. You can’t lose your shit, not now. You sneak another peak at him and holy shit, he’s wearing a mask. It’s not cheesy like Ghost, the emo skull caricature ruining any intimidation tactics the man tried on you. No, it’s terrifying. The eye holes, a void of black in the lighting, feel like they’re staring right into your soul.

He moves to turn a corner and BAM!

You slam onto the ground before you know it, slamming on your side and  cracking your head on a crate. Your vision blurs, a possible concussion sealing your fate. God, you should be in the Caribbean right now getting your back blown out. This is such bullshit.

“Looks like a little birdy is nesting where she shouldn’t be.”

His voice is accented, possibly German. No, Austrian? It’s taunting, making your blood boil. Despite seeing three of him, you lift your pistol and aim at one of him, but he’s faster than he looks. The giant plucks the weapon from your hand and grabs you by the throat. As if you weigh nothing, he slams you into another crate, shattering the wood beneath you. Black spots dominate your vision, his eyes burning into yours.

Even while you’re clawing at his hand, he rips your mask off with ease. You try to suck in another breath, but it’s in vain. This is it. You’re dying. The dream of retiring and dying of old age is dead, just like you…

Air. You have air? Greedily filling up your lungs, you wheeze and gasp as you’re flung over a shoulder. Something painfully digs into your stomach, nearly making you lose your breath again, but the cold is enough to kickstart your body. You begin to struggle, but a harsh squeeze to your shoulder wound makes you freeze. Fuck, this giant really did a number on you.

Mr. Tall, dark, and horrifying shoves you into a vehicle, shouting something at the driver. The car lurches forward immediately. Your head nearly slams into the window from the force, but you’re pulled close to a warm body. A knife appears in your vision, your unfocused eyes unable to track it as your clothing is cut away. You move to push him away, but the knife moves to your throat.

The overhead light in the car finally lets you see his eyes, deep blue orbs paralyzing you instantly. Satisfied with your reaction, he finishes cutting through your clothes and applies pressure to your wound. Hissing, your eyes flutter shut, but you’re not even allowed the sweet peace of unconsciousness.

“Eyes open.”

A bump in the road sends pain straight down your spine, waking you enough to keep your eyes open. The giant, who is hunching in the vehicle, starts dressing your wound. The sight nearly makes you laugh. Maybe it does. His eyes move from your wound back to you. It makes you want to shrink away, but the fucked-up part of your brain is enjoying this. You missed working with mercs, at least they knew how to have a good time. A good time sounds good right now.

Everything’s a blur, you barely register leaving the vehicle, let alone the gurney trip through a hallway of blinding lights. Multiple figures pull you forward, slamming through door after door until you reach your destination. They stop so fast you nearly vomit, the whiplash too overwhelming. Too many pairs of hands tear at you, stripping your equipment and cutting through any cloth in the way.

“Sir, the resources we’re using for her-”

Heavy footsteps interrupt the doctor’s words, the room growing dead silent. “She’s worth more alive, unbroken. Do not make me repeat myself again.”

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Your mouth is dry, why the hell is it dry? Shifting in the bed, the blanket scratches at your exposed skin. The new angle shines a bright ass light in your face. It forces you to shift again, a sigh escaping your lips. That’s when you hear it: a beep. Frowning, your eyes refuse to open until you blink quickly. Flashes of a bright, barren room fill your senses. A hospital?

That’s when it hits you. Oh. Shit. There’s a creak next to you, and that’s when you see him. The giant that subdued you quicker than the 141 did, and that was the whole lot of them. You both stare at each other for a ridiculous amount of time, until he shifts, and your heart rate jumps at the movement. His eyes remain on you, barely blinking.

“You’ve been out for a while,” he remarks, standing up.

He grasps a cup of water, comically small in his hand, and offers it to you. You take it, eyes flicking down to inspect the water before finally taking a sip. God, it feels like heaven. Before you know it, the entire cup is empty. How long were you out?

“Why didn’t you kill me?” you ask, cringing at your own voice. Damn, you sound like you smoked one too many cigs.

“I did not spend months of planning just to kill you, Schatz,” he responds, folding his arms. “After the 141 intercepted our contact, it was my priority to get you back.”

“So, you rescued me?” No one has ever done that for you before. Being used is all you’ve ever known, paid or unpaid. It was you who had to prioritize yourself. “Why?”

“You are not an instrument of death; you use death as an art form.” Who knew he was such a poet? “Apologies for the wounds, I had to convince them we’d kill you.”

“How long was I out for?” Rotating your shoulder, you feel no pain from your bullet wound.

“A month… and there’s something else. The men who had you, the 141, yes?”

You nod, waiting for him to elaborate.

“We found a tag in your arm.”

That makes you sick to your stomach. A tracker? They tagged you like a fucking dog. You played their stupid game, did everything they asked so you could earn their freedom. Your nails dig into the sheets, tearing the fabric from the force of it.

Your eyes flick up to his. “You said something about a contract. What is it?”

Something flashes in his eyes, his head tilting upwards. Is he smiling? “You haven’t lost your fire yet.”

Grumbling, you start stretching your limbs. Like hell you’re going to stay in this bed any longer. Your limbs pop more than you want them to, but at least your body is not as run down as you expected it to be. The routine goes by quickly, and you finally, cautiously, stand up. You wobble slightly, but you’re able to recover.

Your eyes shoot at the mirror in the bathroom, sadness overwhelming you. Shit is what you look like. Your colored hair is long faded, replaced by a dull, washed-out color of blah. Gritting your teeth, you turn to the man who kidnapped you. Technically freed you, but you still have no idea what this giant wants.

“You still haven’t answered my question, big guy,” you huff, immediately snagging the spare clothes next to you. You run through the previous conversation through your head again, trying to get any information out of this gargantuan man.

You slide on the pants, thankfully it’s easier with the shitty hospital gown. Unfolding the shirt, you nearly cry when you see a sports bra fall out of it. God, it’s even your size.

“We will need you for future missions.”

You finish sliding on the bra, freezing. “Missions?”

“Ja. We will discuss a contract, something beneficial to both of us. You and I will be equals in this.”

Tearing off the gown, you pull your shirt over your head. You turn around, sliding your arms through the sleeves with a frown. “And I have a choice?”

“Of course.”

It’s so damn hard to read him with his entire face obscured. At least with Ghost you could cheat a little bit. Masks suck the fun out of everything. “What about living arrangements?”

“Since you are AWOL, soon KIA, I would prefer it if you remained here. There’s a room prepared for you.”

That’s nice of them, but how long until you go crazy in a new cage. You highly doubt they’ll just let you walk out the door, but there must be more to this. He’s got to sweeten the deal.

“The pay?”

“You will find it more generous than your usual prices,” he responds, taking a few steps towards the door. Damn he’s got some legs. Your eyes drift towards his backside. Nice ass, too.

You really need to be spayed. Forcing your eyes upwards, you follow him through the building. Your socked feet are silent compared to his heavy boot steps, but the noise grounds you enough. It allows your mind to wander, this whole situation forcing you to think about how you got here.

You aren’t military, special forces, not even a cop. No, you were a nobody who was willing to do anything to stand up for the little guys. Getting the weapons wasn’t that hard, but training yourself? Being self-taught is what made your skills sought out, always unexpected and untraceable. You made your own rules, picking up a few things whilst you traveled. It’s funny, a life of death and crime let you shed your shell. How things have changed.

You’re in the room before you realize it, your mind wandering too close to memory lane. It’s sparsely decorated, screaming military and barf beige, but it’s all you have. The guns mounted on the walls catch your attention immediately. A gasp leaves your lips before you can help it, gently removing your sniper from its mount.

“Where did you find this? Never thought I’d see this again,” you whisper, immediately falling into your routine of checking it for damages.

“We were too late to prevent your capture,” he replies, watching you, “but we recovered everything they didn’t bother taking.”

Your jaw clenches at the thought of them taking you. Wordlessly, you place it back on its mount. Your hand lingers on it for a few moments, your fingers sliding down in now resistance. “I didn’t wipe my slate clean just to be immediately kidnapped. There was a rat, and not just the one they squeezed my information out of.”

Rage enflames your entire being. Revenge would be a good hobby for you, something to get your strength back. You’re itching for something up close and personal. Almost as if the giant could read your thoughts, he places a file onto the desk. Where was he keeping that? Goddamn you really need to start paying attention.

“We’ve identified a previous client… your first…”